<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ties that Bind by Gynedroid</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171330">Ties that Bind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gynedroid/pseuds/Gynedroid'>Gynedroid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unravelled [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Action/Adventure, Background Childhood Neglect, Background Relationships, Background Sexism, Canon Divergence / Canon Compliance, Coping with trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Epic Battles, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Mutual Pining, Political Intrigue, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sieges, Slow Burn, Spy thriller, The biggest change is a surviving Cousland when there's a Warden Tabris, Unresolved Tension, did I mention slow burn, mutual respect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:07:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>134,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gynedroid/pseuds/Gynedroid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elspeth Cousland survived the horrors of her family's purge and the Blight with a barely a shred of her sanity intact, and is working to put herself back together again. She's determined to be useful and not get shoved to the sidelines. But when her old friend Nathaniel Howe returns to Ferelden, he's less than thrilled by his family's fate, and their friendship shatters under the weight of such trauma.  </p><p>But from the ashes of the old friendship, they slowly find they can forge something new, and make a better world in the process. </p><p>Slightly altered DA universe.  Hero of Ferelden is Kallian Tabris, mistress to king Alistair, and good friend of Elspeth (origins for this found in prologue).  First person for Elspeth section, third person for Nathaniel. This fic will intersect with many of the events of DAA, but will not strictly repeat them - minor consequence of there being a surviving, non-Warden Cousland has some major impacts on the world. It will go into extra-game territory and original plot, particularly in tying some DAA and DA2 threads together in a largely canon compliant way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Anora Mac Tir, Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Cousland/Nathaniel Howe, Female Cousland &amp; Nathaniel Howe, Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unravelled [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Arc 1: Approach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Comments welcome, edits welcome, but I beg your lenience and graciousness in the process!  I'm very nervous about posting my first fic.  The perspective shift is, I imagine, going to be hard to get over, and perhaps I'll come back someday and streamline it, but for now, it's just...easiest to write it the way I want to.  Elsa's too much of a "acts one way while feeling another" character that writing in anything other than first person requires way too much distancing.  </p><p>Added tags to give more warning about what you're in for; this isn't exactly going to be a quick and dirty Cousland/Howe fic mostly because one of my favorite things about the pairing is the implied history and all the hardships the two would have to face to get to a healthy place.  This is intended to be a real slow burn, and hopefully give some depth to the two.  There'll be lots of side characters, too, so if you like long form Awakening fics, this is for you.  </p><p>I'm sure I'll get to DA2. Eventually.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slightly rewritten!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ties that Bind<br/></p><hr/><p><em>Elspeth Cousland</em>. 16th of Ferventis, Dragon 31</p><p> </p><p>I hated being a coward.</p><p>I knew, distantly, that most wouldn't consider me such, not by reputation. I'd worked hard to maintain that.</p><p>Elspeth Cousland, heiress to the throne, renowned "hero" of the siege of Denerim, one of the leaders of the defense that bought us the time we needed to survive until the armies returned.</p><p>Elspeth Cousland. Advisor. And as some of the more clever were beginning to discover, <em>s</em><em>pymaster. </em>A fearsome force to my enemies. A dangerously potent ally to my friends.</p><p>I hadn't even had to make up most of those rumors.</p><p>A coward was someone who couldn't face their fears, and I had a reputation for being dangerously foolhardy, in part by design. But I doubted real heroes had nerves seize them without warning or sense, shaking their hands and nearly locking their entire body down quite opposed to their wishes.</p><p>Real heroes didn't have nightmares of their failures plaguing them. Real heroes didn't <em>cry</em>.</p><p>I'd learned to push through anyway, the fear of failure more potent than the fear of harm. The only thing worse than being a coward was the chance that someone might see through me.</p><p>One would think that all I'd been through might have hardened my nerves, but instead, I'd found it quite the opposite. I'd been a cocky, confident girl a year ago, more than willing to charge into Arl of Denerim's estate with no more than a Grey Warden at my side. So sure of my own immortality that I had the gumption to demand the release of some elves he'd kidnapped. With words and trickery and I'd baited him into a hopeless match with the future Hero of Ferelden, which let us walk out unmolested, leaving behind us the cooling corpse of my newest guardswoman's kidnapper. I was, I flattered myself, quite a talented rogue. </p><p>Or so I'd believed for so long.</p><p>Highever had changed that. That <em>monster</em> had changed that. One last lesson for that damnable man to impart on me, a cruel echo of his former mentorship. </p><p>
  <em>"You never were as good as you thought you were, my dear girl. If only you had listened when I tried to teach you to behave as a lady. And now they all pay the price."</em>
</p><p>His voice was never quite gone from me, and for all that it lied, it was worse when it was threaded with so much truth. With effort I banished the ghost, trying to focus on the road ahead of me, tuning my ear to the conversations around me, desperate for distraction. King Alistair, still locked in conversation with that angry Templar Rylock, doubtless not paying attention to a word she said. I was sure he was entirely caught up in the anticipation of seeing his lover soon, Kallian Tabris, Hero of Ferelden, mistress to the king, love of his life. Templar angry, King solicitous but inattentive: nothing new. Elsewhere? Various snippets from our guardsman, grumblings about food and irritation at the continued darkspawn attacks on our journey, despite the Archdemon's fall. Whispers that the Blight may not truly be done. Those were rather more concerning.</p><p>I took a breath, trying to banish the nerves. Knowing they were merely anticipation for what lay ahead.</p><p>Vigil's Keep. A growing pit in my stomach. The only place I wanted to avoid more was Highever, but I owed the Hero this much. And a Cousland did her duty.</p><p>I glared at the Keep as it appeared on the horizon, wishing it would disappear. Certainly it was designed to be an imposing sight, one I could recall all too well from my youth. Ghosts haunted there now.</p><p>But something looked wrong.</p><p>The idea nestled itself immediately in my mind, and panic rose within me. <em>Calm your nerves, you fool woman,</em> I chided myself, casting a glance about to see if anyone noticed. I was jumpy, that had to be all. Cowardice striking me again. I needed to control that, or everyone would see through me. Rumors would spreads about the Coward Heiress, and I'd destabilize my country, all because I couldn't control myself. I took a breath, thinking of calm lakes.</p><p>My nerves were not what they used to be, clearly I was overreacting. Unfortunately, the concern only grew. The castle looked <em>wrong; </em>I couldn't just ignore my instincts. Not when the lives of those around me might also be on the line. The king was distracted - this was well within my capabilities. Scouting was one of the first skills I'd learned, after all. </p><p>I was gracious enough to inform my guards of my intent, though not quite so patient as to wait long enough and imply they had a choice of stopping me, and pressed my horse forward, fears growing with the castle on the horizon.</p><p>Rolling hills and the beautiful, imposing Shadowvale woods. The distant specs of the buildings that had been developed haphazardly around Vigil's Keep, as it moved from wartime fortress to the civil seat of an Arl. Landmarks achingly familiar, a countryside I knew too well, taunting me.</p><p>House Cousland had a long and proud warrior tradition, but early on I found myself more keen towards roguish pursuits, which was something of a conundrum. My father hadn’t approved, per se, but he eventually gave in, pressing upon his <em>fucking snake of a lying friend </em>Arl Howe to assist in training me. And so I fostered at Vigil’s Keep for a few years, learning to be the best rogue I could, except evidently<em> so incompetent I never saw the monster Rendon was.<br/></em></p><p>There in the distance, that same lake I had spent many summers, in happy conversation with the Howe children, my then dear friends. Happy times, bittersweet times, childhood laughter and playing. Delilah, a sweet if shy woman, who helped open my eyes to how complicated the world could be. Nathaniel, a kind and handsome man who helped me whenever I felt I was falling behind, and soon enough I was helping him too. One of my best friends.</p><p>My first crush.</p><p>I wondered if our tree still stood.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“Look, if you need fight Thomas to get this out of your system, fine, but Lady Elspeth, you don’t need to do this,” Nathaniel urged, concerned.  “You don’t have to get hurt!  He’s a boy, you’re a girl!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...and?” I demanded, flabbergasted. I looked at Delilah. “What, have you never gotten in scraps?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wide eyed, she shook her head. “Father says I should behave appropriately, like a lady,” she insisted, looking at me with terror.  “This isn’t very ladylike, Lady Elspeth!” she whispered loudly.</em>
</p><p><em>I grinned wide. “Maybe we just know different ladies. Because I am the </em>most <em>ladylike,” I told her confidently.  </em></p><hr/><p>
  <em>“Naaaaate,” I groaned, flouncing back on the grass, and taking a long swig of my waterskin. “You barely even tried!”  </em>
</p><p><em>“</em> <em>That’s not true at all!” he protested, looking stunned, coming to sit next to me.  “I’m trying! You think I like getting my butt kicked by a younger girl? I’m still getting teased about it by Thomas.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“You’re holding back,” I insisted grumpily, folding my arms. “You see openings, but you don’t take them, and then I can get away with anything!  You’re teaching me terrible habits.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I…” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “I didn’t think about it that way,” he murmured. “But I don’t want to hurt you just ‘cause you made a mistake.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I grabbed the nearby jar of his mom’s elfroot paste, waving it directly in his face. “If you hurt me I’ll just put some balm on it, Nate! C’mon, getting punched isn’t that big of a deal!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Maybe not for you,” Nathaniel grumped, looking away.  “I just don’t like hurting you, is that so wrong?”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Fucking. <em>Memories.</em></p><p>I couldn't bear them now.</p><p>I pressed forward, determined to focus on my mission. And as I did so, doubts were stripped away - I wasn't crazy. There <em>had</em> been an attack.</p><p>Darkspawn. </p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>I gathered just enough information to ensure the attack was no longer ongoing before wheeling around, racing back with all due haste. The king would not be happy to learn of this. He'd likely not be happy I ran ahead, either, come to think of it, and probably would have done so himself.</p><p>Had I just made a mistake, again? Set back my already shaky relationship with the king? Would this be the moment he “suggested” I accede to my brother’s wishes and return to Highever, of all places, rather than allowing me to stay in Denerim?<br/><br/>I wasn’t sure I could face that husk yet.<br/><br/>But while we’d stared out friendly, I’d ruined whatever nascent friendship I had with the king with rather dramatic flair. Because of me, Loghain had been recruited into his order. Because of me, Loghain was given the perfect chance to redeem himself, sacrificing himself to strike a blow against the archdemon.</p><p>Because of me, Loghain's daughter, Alistair's wife, gave toasts in honor of her late father at every opportunity, celebrating a man I knew Alistair loathed.</p><p>Alistair had good reason to despise me. But I wanted - <em>needed - </em>to serve my country, and it wasn’t just because I had to avoid Highever at all costs. The best way I could do that was serving the king directly, whether he liked it or not. The only thing to do was move forward, and work to restore their tenuous friendship. We both wanted what was best for Ferelden.<br/><br/>No. I wasn't thinking clearly. He might be angry with me, but what I had done was necessary, and he would know that. I felt a dark calm settle around my shoulders, the sense of hunkering down and readying myself for the inevitable horror that would follow. And when I returned, I was able to warn our travelling party. Most of the troops began to dismount, while a handler held the more antsy horses back, and the entourage continued on foot.<br/><br/>As we shuffled about under these new conditions, Templar Rylock found her in, sidling up next to me and giving me a sidelong glance laden with questions and meaning. “My lady, I should warn you. This is just the kind of chaos that little shit will use to escape,” she growled.<br/><br/>How...<em>direct</em>. I was rather used to speaking with nobles, at this point, who tended to remain cagey about what they wanted. I knew this templar had joined up with us to hunt down an apostate mage called Anders. Despite her efforts, the story remained unclear to me; I doubted the mage was quite so murderous and unstable as the Templar implied, or he’d’ve been sent to Aeonar long since.<br/><br/>“I appreciate your concern, Templar, and rest assured that if any try to sneak out in cover of night, our scouts will soon be sent to find them. We need to look for any trace of darkspawn presence, after all." She nodded, and looked ready to interject more, but I wasn't willing to cede control of the conversation so readily. "However, it’s possible he might remain within the walls. Considering the defenders are likely recovering from a darkspawn attack, it would be to our advantage to allow him to use the fullest extent of his skills to help the defenders heal,” I cautioned the woman.<br/><br/>“Why, so he can worm into the good graces of the Wardens?” she growled.<br/><br/><em>Yes, you pompous dingbat! Maker, did you not see how pivotal mages were to help us recover from the Blight? </em>But some fights weren’t worth taking, and this one had an easy escape I was all too happy to blatantly misuse. “So he can be drained and weak,” I explained dryly, and the Templar hesitated, looking thoughtful, giving a nod of thanks that I returned with what I hoped was a gracious smile, gritted teeth well hidden.<br/><br/>We crested the hill, and the state of the keep sent a ripple of concern through the soldiers; the walls had been breached, and the gates hung off wrested hinges. Alistair began picking up the pace, face tense and worried,  a cheerful shout from the defenders doing little to relax him. As much as I could manage without looking like I was straining, I matched my pace to walk alongside him. I was, technically, an advisor to the crown, and still had a duty, however little he wanted me to perform it. “Don’t forget to let your guards form a procession to herald you,” I murmured undertone, and Alistair shot me an annoyed look.<br/><br/>“What, they need to do the Remigold whenever I enter a keep? You understand this was truly a darkspawn attack, right?”<br/><br/>My eyelid twitched, but I lashed my temper in; I had to admit I was at least partially piqued because he had a point. “That hail means the attack is no longer ongoing, thus you are more useful as a king than a soldier.”<br/><br/>“And why can’t I be both?!”<br/><br/>“The more you can reassure people that business is normal, and the country is recovering, the sooner they believe it, and the sooner it will be true. For now, that rather means following older traditions, stupid though they may be,” I explained tightly, smile never wavering. “In short? Kings get fanfare. It’s the rules.”<br/><br/>Alistair paused, thoughtful, and gave me a rueful smile, face open in his expressions. ‘You have a point. Thank you, advisor.”<br/><br/>I sighed, feeling my own frustration drain too easily, quiet despite myself. My new king had no training to swim among nobility, but there was an honest charm to him that was compelling. I was reminded, strikingly, of why this was the horse I’d wanted to back when I met him. “I serve,” I said quietly, nodding my head deferentially. <br/><br/>It was belayed as I hoped, with their guards streaming in in a proper procession, though Alistair waited not a moment later. And as they approached, I saw a few familiar faces that I couldn’t help smile at; Oghren was here, as I knew and dreaded, but far more relevantly, there was Warden Commander Kallian Tabris, Hero of Ferelden, Mistress to the king, and most importantly, my best friend.<br/><br/>And even though the woman’s armor was splattered with black blood, signaling heavy combat, I felt my tension draining away, and my hands stopped shaking; a sense of normalcy and safety returned. The Hero of Ferelden was here. She was standing proud and firm. Everything would be fine.</p><p>Greetings were seen to, and Alistair showed much growth by managing to not make out with his lover in public. The situation with the darkspawn was grim, and a concern. But as usual, the Hero of Ferelden already had much well in hand, having recruited many to her cause. And while the Templar tried to lay claim to the apostate mage she'd been so concerned over, Kallian instead interceded, recruiting him into her order.</p><p>Which. Great. I was happy for him, really, but by the look on Rylock's face, we had <em>not</em> heard the end of this. The templars were already pretty riled up about some of the reforms to the Circle the king was pushing for; this was exactly the kind of thing that would have them up in arms, and much more likely to make our lives miserable, fighting every step tooth and nail. Common sense dictated the Crown should see about backing the Templar over this minor detail, one mage for the price of relief for many more.</p><p><em>Just what I need. Another fight with that damn cantankerous order. </em>Selfish dread almost had me want to pull Kallian aside, to demand if this one scraggly mage was worth it.</p><p>But...it was Kallian. No matter what life had thrown at me in this past year, one thing had remained resoundingly true: <em>Always trust in Kallian Tabris</em>.<br/><br/>And so I smiled politely as a stunned Anders was in the process of being congratulated for his acceptance into the order, and apparently Oghren had been welcomed in that time as well. Which, good - I admired the dwarf, and he'd been a gift of the Maker when he came barreling in to help in the siege of Denerim, but Oghren took patience. And so I preferred to admire him from a distance. They finished the formalities. The original plan had been to rest in Vigil’s keep for the night, much to my distaste, but our captain had insisted that with the attack it was no longer safe. Alistair actually shot a guilty look at me with this; <em>he</em> was safe from the taint, but I and our entourage certainly weren’t, and it was clear he’d leave the decision to me.<br/><br/>I sighed, refusing to let herself give into temptation to avoid the Howe’s old estate, and the metaphorical ghosts that haunted the walls. “Captain, the road is long, and there is no question that darkspawn roam it. It would be safer to travel in the daylight, to remove their advantage of seeing in the dark,” I insisted. “Vigil’s keep has been attacked, but its stone walls remain. Besides, we’ve two Grey Wardens, lest you’ve forgotten. The king may have left the order, but he retains his indomitable strength and stamina.”<br/><br/>Captain Hye looked perturbed. “Lady Elspeth, with great respect, this keep was attacked despite the walls and Grey Wardens. Whatever intelligence is guiding these creatures, even simply the base desire to destroy the largest thing they find, that makes it a target. If the Wardens could not handle such numbers last time…”</p><p>Alistair scoffed. "Are you kidding, Captain? Cheerful, brave Lady Cousland? She's probably just jealous she didn't get to be a part of the fun in the first place."</p><p>I forced a commensurate grin to match the king for the unnecessary fluffing, though I'm sure it served his purposes quite well. I couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but that certainly was the personality I wanted people to see.  It was half true, at least, under normal circumstances; I preferred keeping to an upbeat demeanor. A noble must pretend to be unbothered; so much the better if they could pretend to be happy.</p><p>Brave, though? Hardly. But if he was willing to pretend, then so was I.</p><p>“The Orlesian Wardens are no doubt strong, and have trained well. However, with the greatest possible respect to the Order, the Wardens last time were not our Ferelden heroes. Do I not see before me the Hero of Ferelden?” I said, gesturing to Kallian with a smile. “Combined with our dear, heroic, valiant king? If darkspawn try to attack…” I grinned, a flair of the dramatic taking me. “They will have far more than they bargained for.”<br/><br/>A ragged cheer rose among the soldiers at this one, and Kallian and Alistair shared a challenging grin. The captain acquiesced.</p><p>The soldiers swept the halls, and we were slowly welcomed into the keep to settle in. The moment I could, I ditched the guards. Captain Hye was...mostly used to such maneuvers at this point, right? But emotions were roiling in me, and I had no faith that I wouldn't break down in tears with the right prod. Best to do that when no one could hear me. </p><p>I hate to admit it, but I regretted that “decision” almost immediately. Wandering the old, passingly familiar halls of the Howe family was steadily becoming an oppressive weight, and bitter nostalgia filled me.  I hated how much I wanted a friendly face, how vulnerable I felt. Each step echoed loudly throughout the halls to my ears, now matter how carefully I placed my feet.  Rendon’s sneering face gazed at me from every portrait; Thomas hid in all shadows.  I didn’t want to submit to fear, but I had no more willpower left to try. I gave into instincts and slipped into stealth, justifying that I should be careful that a random servant didn’t stumble across an alone noble and think to ask why.  </p><p>I ghosted my way in a daze, feet betraying me and leading me to the threshold of the children's old rooms.  Memories gripped me, fragments of long days and nights, of lessons, of laughter, of friendship and tears.  </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>12 years ago</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“But Lady Elspeth--”</p><p>“It’s fiiiiiine,” I wheedled Anna, Delilah’s very nervous looking maid.  “I prefer my hair down like this.  Don’t you think it looks pretty?”</p><p>Delilah watched the exchange, eyes wide and bouncing back and forth.</p><p>“I...ah...that is...of course it does…”</p><p>“Great!”  I beamed at her, and cast a glance at the envious looking Delilah.  “Then Delilah and I can go like this together and look like real sisters!”</p><p>Delilah shrieked with delighted laughter, assuming victory before it was secured, and hugged me while Anna just looked increasingly flustered and hopeless, so I threw her a lifeline.</p><p>“Look, you can just say I ordered it and gently imply I threw a bit of a tantrum over it, you know,” I told the young woman.  Her eyes snapped up at me, looking ready to cry.</p><p>“My lady, I would never-”</p><p>Ahhh drat, that was silly of me, I’d forgotten.  Why were all the servants here so afraid of their nobles anyway? “No, no, I mean, I mean, it’s what I want.  And I think you’re doing a wonderful job. If anyone tries to get mad at you for doing as I’ve ordered well, then. I’ll raise a real ruckus.”  I gave her a conspiratorial  grin.  “And you don’t want to see that.”</p><p>“Maker, none of us do, not again,” the dry tones of Nathaniel cut in.  </p><p>“Eep!” Delilah gulped, cringing back. “Brother!”</p><p>“Lo there, Nate,” I said, brazenly unfazed.  </p><p>“Please see to Deliah’s hair right now,” Nathaniel ordered the maid, who gulped and nodded, while Delilah just sagged and accepted her fate. </p><p>Hm. That... passiveness simply had to go.</p><p>I narrowed my eyes, glaring at Nathaniel for ruining my plans.  “You know that’s not going to work on me , right?”</p><p>There was a glint in his eyes as he pulled out a comb.  “I think you’ll like the alternative far less.”</p><p>I glared back.  “You can’t make me plait my hair, Nathaniel.”</p><p>“I think you’ll find I very much can.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>I was giving my best pout to the room’s mirror that I possibly could, but Nathaniel remained unfazed, so I tried increasing the pressure.</p><p>“Ow! Why are you pulling so much, you savage?” I grunted, eyes bright with sudden tears.</p><p>“Because a maid would be better at this, and you should have let her do it,” Nathaniel responded severely.  </p><p>“I prefer my hair down!”</p><p>“It’s not appropriate for a lady.”</p><p>Pah! This tactic wasn’t working.  Time to switch things up.  “Why though?  I think my hair’s pretty down, all wavy and long.  Are you saying it’s ugly like that?”</p><p>He sighed, and whether by intent or not, the brushing got much gentler. “A little on the nose, but more clever, I’ll give you that.”</p><p>“Criticizing my play so you don’t have to answer? Obvious dodge is obvious,” I fired back.</p><p>His lips trembled with the effort not to smirk.  “Wearing your hair up shows you pay attention to details, that you take care of yourself, your estate, and your appearance. It shows you find yourself worth the effort, instead of just haphazardly rolling out of bed and immediately mucking the fields like a common peasant,” he listed.  </p><p>“I think it looks pretty down,” I insisted mulishly. “And don’t be snobbish. Delilah will <em>scold</em> you.” </p><p>He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked. “Well, maybe when you get older, you can change the style that everyone prefers,” he mused.  “But until then, as it turns out, 13 year old ladies don’t get to decide what all ladies should look like no matter how willful they are. Appearance is important, and a form of language itself.  But you can’t really have a conversation if you’re insistent on speaking a different language.”</p><p>I fell silent, processing that.  He wasn’t without point. He <em>usually</em> wasn't without point, Nathaniel seemed like a pretty smart guy, and thus far, since moving here, had rarely let me get away with <em>anything</em>. Because he was a snob.</p><p>Still, I was fairly convinced his whole “all noblewomen wear their hair up” was just wrong. I knew so many women from Highever wore their hair down! This place was weird. And it took way too long to plait hair. Though, to be fair, it <em>was</em> starting to feel nice.</p><p>As if reading my mind, he smiled faintly in the mirror. “Your hair is beautiful, Elsa,” he finally conceded.  “So don’t you want it to look the best it possibly can?”</p><p>“Why don't you have to put up your hair, then?” I demanded.  </p><p>He chuckled, and tapped his braids, which didn’t count, since I had to have mine all the way up.  “I do, though. And anyway, it’s different for men.  We’ll never excel like women at beauty.”</p><p>“But that’s silly!  Look at you!  I think you’re very pretty,” I chirped in, shamelessly smiling, expecting he’d be offended.</p><p>His grin widened.  “Well, thank you, Elsa, that’s sweet of you to say.  But it’s still less common for men to wear their hair up, even if they have hair long enough to do so. So unless you’ve fooled me quite thoroughly and you’ve been a boy this whole time…”</p><p>I sighed.  “So, you get to have an easier, prettier hairstyle because you’re a boy? That seems silly and unfair.”</p><p>“Just the way life is, I’m afraid. Men and women are different.”</p><p>I scoffed.  “Hah! You said the same thing about me sparring and I still walloped Thomas.  Maybe you’re just not familiar with much outside of Amaranthine!”</p><p>He paused, and chuckled.  “Well scored! I have to give you that one. But I’m afraid arguments centered around you won’t work; you’re a Cousland.  That makes you special regardless.”</p><p>“You just don’t know enough girls,” I protested.</p><p>“True enough,” he agreed.  “But I know how ladies here wear their hair, and I know father specifically asked me to make sure your and Delilah’s hair was up for the banquet tonight.”</p><p>My eyes narrowed, considering.  “That’s what he said? That our hair had to be up?”  </p><p>His lips quirked.  “Yes.  Where are you going with this, Elsa?”</p><p>My grin widened.  “Did he say specifically all the way up?”</p><p>He hesitated, and I knew I’d struck. “I know what he prefers-”</p><p>“Nathaniel, he’s already letting me train in fighting with you, so it’s clear I’m not totally a normal girl with normal rules, right?”  I pressed, grin widening.  </p><p>A moment of silence, and a slight slack to his shoulders told me I’d gained yet more ground.  He sighed, heavily.  “Alright, Elsa, what is it you propose?  I’m not saying I’ll agree, but I’d rather cut to the chase here.”</p><p>“Put my hair up in your hairstyle. Then no one can say it isn’t up, or appropriate for a noble, and, and, your da’ll be pleased that I’m clearly expressing admiration for his heir, in copying his hairstyle.”</p><p>“Father,” he corrected absently.  “Speak appropriately.”  He mulled it over, considering it.  “It can’t be the same as a man’s, though, that’s just...not right.”</p><p>This whole boys versus girls thing was so dumb.  Also, clearly wrong.  But trying to go for total victory here might just lose me everything.  “How about two braids on each side, then?  A little fancier, but clearly inspired?”</p><p>He hemmed, and hawed, but I knew I had him, a glint of amusement in his eyes too much to hide.  “On your own head be the consequences,” he warned me, even as he began plaiting.</p><p>“I can live with that!” I agreed cheerfully.  </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>Present day</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tears wet my eyes.  Delilah I'd already had to face and reckon with, is that why Nathaniel was haunting me now?  Off in Starkhaven, hearing only snippets of the news, cut away from his family - what must he think about everything?  I missed him terribly, and yet so much more, I dreaded seeing him someday.  Part of me just hoped he'd stay in Starkhaven forever. Where he wouldn't have to face the horror of what his father and brother had done, or how I was forced to respond.  But I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid him forever.</p><p>I couldn’t bear any more memories. I banished the ghosts and ran.</p><p>This time I was more careful, heading towards Kallian’s quarters, worried I’d interrupt the lovers but to my surprise seeing them standing - openly, dammit, why? - in the hallway, looking concerned, tense. “What’s the situation?  Darkspawn presence?”</p><p>"Well, yes, there is, but that's not-" Alistair began.</p><p>"You two let <em>me</em> worry about the darkspawn," Kallian growled.  "Your majesty," she added as an after thought, and Alistair gave her an amused, perturbed look.  "I'll handle that.  This is...ah. Different. I'm glad you're here, Elsa. I need your help, actually."</p><p>"You have it, but what's going on?"  </p><p>They exchanged an awkward glance, and Alistair gestured at Kallian.  “I’ll...see you later, love.  If you can pull yourself away from your office, you know where to find me.”   She grasped her lover’s hand and gave him a weak smile, and Alistair nodded at me before disappearing, all of this leaving me hopelessly confused.</p><p>“So...”</p><p>“There’s...I, I just need your eyes on something.”</p><p>I frowned. If it were physical danger, I doubted she’d be so hesitant. "Can I get any more details?”</p><p>“I don’t want to be wrong, so I’d rather not bias you,”  Kallian said slowly, looking away.  “But I need you to give me your impression of a prisoner.  He injured 4 Wardens breaking in, and, well, how dangerous is he?”</p><p>I breathed out a sigh, relaxing.  Simple people reading?  <em> That </em> I could do.  </p><p>Thank the Maker for an easy task.</p><p>I nodded. "Right. Let’s go.”<br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Cover artwork of Elsa and Nathaniel commissioned from Grey Enchanter, found here:<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/GreyEnchanter">Artist: Grey Enchanter</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Arc 1: Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At his lowest point, caught in a jail cell, Nathaniel Howe contemplates his fate - and what he can possibly do to save his family, how low he's willing to sink. But if it can protect his family - who wouldn't he hurt?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: Abelist language, sexist language, lots of Nathaniel being OOC for in-story plot reasons.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Nathaniel Howe.</em> 17th of Ferventis, Dragon 31.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Blessed are they who stand before</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.”</em>
</p><p>“Oh, and you think you’re just, do you?” his latest tormentor sneered. “Breaking in to steal from Heroes, injuring the Wardens we needed for defense?”</p><p>Nathaniel ignored him, continuing his soft prayer. “Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written.”</p><p>“50 dead, you insignificant asshole! All because of you!”</p><p>He was trying to keep himself above baiting, but the sheer absurdity of the statement demanded an answer. “Light injuries on 4 Wardens from a week ago truly made so much of a difference in the siege? I knew their reputation was overblown, but this--”</p><p>“You little--” the guard snarled, making a grab through the bars. But Nathaniel had long learned exactly the spot where the guards couldn’t reach him, but believed they could, and the man ended with nothing but strained arms and a rapped forehead for his trouble.</p><p>“Easy, Reinold,” the other guard quieted him. “Go take a walk.”</p><p>“But he-”</p><p>“Take. A <em>walk</em>,” the guard snapped, and with a last sneer at Nathaniel, he obeyed.</p><p>Nathaniel eyed the newer guard with wary disdain. “Are you the one to play my friend, now?”</p><p>“Depends on your definition of friend,” the guard mused, pulling out a thin strip of vellum. “Your cousin sends her regards.”</p><p>He eyed the guard with renewed interest, though he didn’t immediately take the message. None of the guards should know his identity, yet, as he hadn’t told them.</p><p>The guard rolled his eyes at his hesitance. “Fine. Your...aunt or whatever. Your late <em>father’s </em>cousin,” he corrected, waving the vellum in front of him in annoyance. Nathaniel snatched it from his hands. “Bloody precise nobles,” he muttered, walking over to the desk, apparently finished with the conversation.</p><p>Nathaniel tightened his grip on the note. “If you’re working for Marcella, why not let me out?”</p><p>The guard yawned, bored. “Ain’t working for her. Wasn’t paid enough for that shit. Rather join onto a good thing going here, but I got nothin’ against family wanting to talk to each other.” He gave a pointed look to the message Nathaniel had yet to unroll. “Or ignore each other. Makes no odds to me, I did my part.”</p><p>Nathaniel sighed, settling back against the wall again, staring at the vellum in his hand with building dread. The last message he’d been able to send out was terse, and probably unnecessary. <em>Plans failed. Captured. Need tools to break out. </em>But no tools had come, which meant Marcella had decided what Nathaniel already knew; he was a failure, unworthy of rescue.</p><p>Maker.</p><p>Was this to be it? The legacy of the Howes? Gone down in history as monsters all because people couldn’t help exaggerate and cast their opposition as villains in wars they’d won?</p><p>His father was a hero, a key figure in the war for independence, and not thirty years later, his deeds had already been forgotten. How easily the supposedly Heroic Wardens stole all the glory, and foisted all the blame onto others.</p><p>Or perhaps it was a Cousland, as Marcella had implied, though it was hard to credit Teyrn Fergus with the stones or cunning. And with Elsa--</p><p>Nathaniel swallowed, suddenly, unwilling to face these thoughts, hurriedly unrolling the message. Even whatever Marcella had written was preferable to dwelling on that.</p><p>
  <em>Keep too guarded for escape. Opportunity to save family remains; Cousland to visit with king. Bait into making a fatal error. Noble sacrifice. Others will rise up to prevent more.</em>
</p><p>He stared at the words in front of him, a pit building in his stomach as he considered what they proposed. His life, a lost cause. But. If Fergus was coming to visit, if he could be baited into executing Nathaniel for little more than theft...Marcella could use that. She could prove how the teyrn had lost all restraint, executing Howes for minor crimes. The other nobles would band together, and the next time someone wanted to throw a Howe to the gallows...maybe they would hesitate. Maybe they would object.</p><p>He closed the vellum, finding his strength now that he had a plan of action, and firming his resolution to see it through, no matter the cost. His life had been worthless; maybe his death might finally have meaning.</p><p>“Any news you’d be willing to share?” he asked the guard, who looked up at him with disinterest.</p><p>The guard shrugged. “King arrived. But so did the Hero, so don’t be thinking of trying anything funny.”</p><p>Nathaniel shrugged. “Not much I could do from a cell anyway. But perhaps you could ask someone to decide my fate? You’ve better things to do than languish guarding a cell.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re willing to talk now, are you?”</p><p>He smiled thinly. “Worth explaining myself to the one in charge, don’t you think?”</p><p>The guard snorted, and yelled out the door, bringing the other still visibly angry Reinold back. They shared quiet whispers to which Nathaniel wasn’t privy, though the cruel smile Reinold sent his direction left little doubt what the guard figured would happen.</p><p>And with grace and care, Nathaniel cleaned off the dirt, determined to present an impeccable appearance. He had a performance to put on, after all.</p><p> </p><p>Sergeant Garavel was a hard man, and bore Nathaniel no love, as he well knew. Seeing him was not a surprise, but neither was it a pleasure.  But his company--that was interesting.  The woman he was flanked by could be none other than the Hero of Ferelden, Warden Commander Kallian Tabris.</p><p>He eyed her, trying to look unimpressed; she was nothing like the rumors, though he hadn’t expected she would be. Marcella cautioned him that she was a well respected and fierce warrior, she wouldn’t have been easy to take down. But before him stood a friendly looking elf woman, stout and surprisingly short, with a mass of flaming red hair and piercing green eyes. She was beautiful, that much had to be admitted, and he could reasonably allow the rumors that she was the king’s lover had weight to them.  But her bearing demonstrated an easy confidence and grace that it would not do to underestimate. </p><p>Still. He had a role to play, and he needed her off balance. He stood up, not above using his superior height to cast a shadow of intimidation, going immediately on the attack. “Ah, the great Hero. Conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil,” he sneered. “Aren’t you supposed to be ten feet tall, with lightning coming out of your eyes?”</p><p>She snorted at that, apparently amused, and disappointingly, completely unfazed. “Had to shrink down to fit in the room,” she quipped, apparently finding his predicament funny. “But who are you? Not many men stupid enough to try and assault a Warden keep single-handedly.”</p><p>The insult washed off him easily.  “I am Nathaniel Howe,” he stated firmly. “Rightful Lord of this castle. I demand the right to present my case in court, presided by Peers.”</p><p>She gave him a doubtful look, raking her gaze over him. “You. Nathaniel Howe. Son of Rendon, the traitor? Yeah. Right. I’ll just let you right on out then,” she drawled.</p><p>“I am who I am,” he insisted. “I won’t begrudge you needing to have this verified, any of sufficient," he sniffed, "...prestige should recognize me, but I have rights I will not be denied.” He was lying, of course, but he had a feeling that the recently elevated elf wouldn’t exactly know what rights and responsibilities nobles had, and be rather easy to manipulate in this regard.</p><p>She gazed at him then, and sighed heavily. “Alright, well, sit tight, then, and I’ll go fetch someone who can tell for sure.”</p><p>He waited until she’d turned away to allow himself a small smile of triumph. Step one, complete.</p><p>By the time footsteps returned he was sure to be on his feet, leaning against the wall in an indolent lounge he knew Fergus would immediately recognize, sneer fixed on his face. But when the figure emerged through the doorway, he froze in horror. It wasn’t Fergus who joined the Arlessa, but a face he’d never forget, no matter how much time had passed.</p><p>Auburn hair she was so strangely proud of, brown eyes that could easily undo many.</p><p>Lady Elspeth Cousland stared at him, shock overtaking her as much as him.</p><p>“It can’t be,” they whispered in one voice.</p><p>She was <em>here</em>?!</p><p>His heart pounded within him, frozen for a moment, staring at the woman before him, his plan temporarily forgotten.</p><p>Marcella hadn’t...warned him? But even as the faintest of smiles just began to warm her face, hope alighting in her brown eyes, he realized how nearly he had almost stepped into a trap, and laughed cruelly, desperate to buy himself time to think. Her nascent smile disappeared, her expression sliding into the noble facade.</p><p>He couldn't dare let himself forget what caliber of rogue she was--after all, his father had trained her as well. She’d always been brilliant--archer, runecrafter, healer, but most importantly, storyteller. Pieces slammed into place, at who the architect had to be, the lies spread about his father.  How well she must have grown in talent. All to try and wipe her own father’s traitorous slate clean. Rage served as useful a direction for his boiling emotions as any.</p><p>“I’d heard tales that you survived, but they were hard to credit. How strange it is, the Cousland siblings miraculously survive rumors of a supposed <em>purge</em>, and my father remains conveniently dead. How well you weaved your webs, you conniving--”</p><p>“Can we start with pleasantries before accusations? I’d like to express relief to at least see you alive, Nate,” she interrupted dryly.</p><p>Fury overtook him, and he bared his teeth. How dare she be so familiar with him. “Don’t use that name,” he hissed. “My family loved you as one of our own and you murdered us, you bitch!”</p><p>Her facade cracked, her expression stricken in horror. It brought Nathaniel a grim satisfaction, knowing she at least felt her own guilt. Unfortunately, it also distracted him, as the Hero of Ferelden made her move. Surging with a speed Nathaniel couldn’t have countered anyway, he found his head grabbed and slammed against the cage bars. Stars filled his vision and he was temporarily rendered senseless. The hero was yelling, and it took a moment to parse what she had said.</p><p>“You will conduct yourself respectfully or so help me, I swear on the Maker’s names I’ll rip out your spine through your fucking <em>throat</em>!” she roared, the friendly woman from before gone, a furious harbinger of death in her place.</p><p>Nathaniel stared at her in shock, before a smirk curved his lips. She was...very easy to bait, evidently.  His expression infuriated her, so she slammed him into the cage bars again, and white pain lashed throughout Nathaniel’s face. Blood began to pour from his nose, and he did his best to stop it without looking as though he were scrambling.</p><p>“Stop!” Elspeth hissed. “Stop, Kally! The Howe’s in a cage, for pity’s sake.” Kally? Of course, these two must be good friends. Clever woman, worm herself into the good graces of the darling of Ferelden. This had to be how Elspeth was able to so easily manipulate the public’s opinion--it was all backed up by a gullible hero.</p><p>“He just--”</p><p>“I know what he said!”  the Cousland snapped icily. “He’s just being a yappy dog. I pay no attention to dog farts, and neither should you! They’re just sour wind.”</p><p>Nathaniel tried to interject but sudden nausea had overtaken him, surely from the injury, and he had to spend the moment composing himself, lest he betray weakness. Dammit, he had a plan! He hadn’t exactly anticipated it was to be used against Elspeth, but--but she was still a Cousland. This could still work.</p><p>A long moment also betrayed the woman’s efforts to control her voice. “I take it this is who you brought me to see?”</p><p>“...Yes. My new sergeant, ah...Garvel? Informed me he was caught breaking into Vigil’s Keep, for what purpose we don’t know. He severely injured multiple guards in his infiltration; It took four Wardens to restrain him. When he identified himself, I thought only you might know for sure. The teyrn has a strong request regarding agitating Howes,” she pointed out. “So don’t worry. I’ll see to it.” The elf smiled grimly. “It’ll be a pleasure, really, considering how well this dog seems to take after his father. Thank you, my lady. I’m sorry to put you through this.”</p><p>Well, that would work after all. If he was to be delivered directly to Fergus-</p><p>“Kallian, would you mind giving us some privacy for a spell? I would like a chance to...settle some things with the Howe.”</p><p>Nathaniel sneered at her, though by her raised eyebrow, the blood pouring from his nose was perhaps maring the intimidation of the gesture somewhat. <em>No. Let your brother handle this! Angles--point out it’s clear she’s trying to get rid of the Hero because she doesn’t trust her? </em>But he had no leverage, no point to worm his way in, and nothing he could try and pry between the two of them without giving away the game. He held his tongue, waiting for his moment.  If it came to it...it would have to be Elspeth, then.  </p><p>The elf blinked, looking at her companion with some consternation. “I...mentioned it took four Wardens to restrain him, right?”</p><p>Elspeth gave her a flat look. “You broke his nose and he’s in a jail cell. He poses no threat.”</p><p>Concern filled the elf’s face as she grabbed the woman’s arm. “I meant--”</p><p>“I know what you meant,” Elspeth growled “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>The woman sighed, and left, a last warning look sent Nathaniel’s direction that he found hard to ignore. And warily, Nathaniel and Elspeth stared at each other. Finally, she made an annoyed noise and reached into her pack. She pulled out a jar and cloth and set it on the floor in easy reach of him before stepping back a safe distance. Elfroot poultice had a distinct smell, though she was mad if she truly believed he’d just...accept anything a Cousland handed him.</p><p>“I don’t want to have to stare at your bleeding nose, Howe,” she growled, in transparent effort to prompt him to take her bait.</p><p>“What, a little blood too scary for you?” he sneered.</p><p>She laughed, sounding bitter. “Or don’t. Whatever, it makes no odds. But tell me, Nathaniel, when did you get so stupid? You must recognize that’s the Hero of Ferelden. And current Arlessa of Amaranthine. You must have heard stories of her by now. Why would you find it prudent to provoke her?”</p><p>“The stories also claim she unhinges her jaw to swallow darkspawn whole,” he growled. “I hardly need your patronizing nonsense, Cousland. Stories can be exaggerated, as you well know. I’m quite sure you were behind the scenes, propping her up.”</p><p>She made an annoyed noise.  “Propping up the hero, that's a good one.  Ugh.  Look.  This...is not going to be easy. Or useful. But. Nathaniel. You were….we were….like siblings, once--”</p><p>“You were never my sister,” he hissed in fury and in truth--she dare claimed kinship now?--and she stiffened, stricken.</p><p>“Fine. But. At least. Can we,” she spoke, so clearly stilted and unsettled. “Attempt civility?”</p><p>His insides twisted, her cautious and wounded face a dagger. No. No. Dammit, he had a plan! He needed to provoke her. Fergus would have been easy to bait--that man’s temper was legendary. But Elspeth? Nathaniel clutched his hands into fists, wondering why this was so hard.</p><p>
  <em>Because I’m relieved she’s alive.</em>
</p><p><em>She stripped my family of all its rights! It was undoubtedly she who murdered my entire family! This...I have to stick to the plan! Emotions have no place in this. I have to attack her. I have to bring out her weakness.</em> “Civility?” He sneered in response, and a cruel, forced laugh bubbled forth. “Were you being civil when you spread your horrific lies, all so you could gut my entire family? When you murdered my father in his own bed? ”</p><p>Fury grew evident in her expression, but again she lashed it in, twitching face pretending at mere annoyance. “So many failures to do even basic information gathering, Howe. Rendon died in a duel, with Kallian Tabris serving as my champion. Witnessed by Lord Oswyn of Dragon’s Peak. All properly done according to tradition. A test of arms in single combat.” And then her anger broke. “More honor than your snake of a father ever fucking deserved,” she hissed.</p><p>There was anger, yes, so it was working, but, not well enough. She needed to be mindless with rage. The younger Cousland was cannier than her brother, much more given to plots then explosive reactions. But even she had trigger points. Vaughn Kendells, Arl Urien of Denerim’s son, used to get under her skin so easily--how had he done it? He adopted the same arrogant expression as the fallen noble, sneering at Elspeth, as if she was nothing more than garbage, refuse.</p><p>“Dogshit. I know the lies you spread through your sycophants, Cousland. Slept with Oswyn to sully his word, did you? Should I be surprised you have one play? I’m only shocked you didn’t sleep your way into being Queen. Maybe your cunt was too stretched for the throne, <em>whore</em>.”</p><p>And when the words left him he felt….completely hollow, a shell of who he was. A venom spent, a line crossed. There’d be no coming back from that, he realized.  Was it...worth it?</p><p>
  <em>I...I must stick to the plan! She always twists her way out of blame!</em>
</p><p>The words struck her, he could see, hurt her as he hoped they would. She clenched her fists to her side, shaking in rage.</p><p>
  <em>Do it. Give in. Slice my throat, right here. Show your true colors, Cousland. Do it! Kill me, dammit! Kill me now! I deserve it, you know I do!</em>
</p><p>“You. Are,” she began, her voice shaking with suppressed rage. “So much <em>dumber </em>than I ever remembered!” she ended, her voice cracking in rage. “Maker, why did I ever think you were a rare spark of intelligence! Even your brother was cannier than this!”</p><p>Rage came suddenly flooding back to him again. Oh, that was just dogshit. She thought because she wrapped all of Ferelden around her finger, he too should be ensnared? “I’m the only one smart enough to not buy into your<em> fucking lies</em>,” he snarled.</p><p>“Well, I’m ever so glad to know you inherited your father’s sexism, too!” she roared back. “At least tell me you're not so cruel as to have said <em>that</em> to Delilah’s face!”</p><p>His world stopped. He froze, staring at her, words strangled. “What,” he rasped. “She’s...she’s….alive?”</p><p>She stared back at him, eyes widening in apparent realization. Worryingly, anger began to fade from her expression.  Through gritted teeth she hissed.  “You’ve...spoken with Delilah, haven’t you?”</p><p><em>“Is</em><em> she alive?!</em> Tell me!” he yelled, surging to the bars.</p><p>“You,” she began, and paused. “You didn’t even check?!” Her face was genuinely astonished as she stared at him, so taken aback that he found himself believing, if just for a moment “She’s in Amaranthine, <em>you complete and utter moron!</em> She hasn’t even changed her damn name! You had to port through there in the first place if you made it this far inland! Was your little fucking revenge melodrama so all encompassing you lost sight of <em>finding your family?!</em> Of all the hare-brained, fucking catastrophic, monumental acts of stupidity, you unbelievably stupid cockwomble! Slop brained bobolyne! Utterly curfuzzled cumberworld!”</p><p>She continued to rant, calling him every insult for stupid under the sun. He was too staggered to even try to get a word in edgewise, just staring in stunned silence. The resonance...Maker, why did he have to feel nostalgic now? She was only ever at her cruelest when she thought Nathaniel being cruel and stupid.</p><p>Could it be...could it be true? Was his sister alive? Why hadn’t Marcella told him? She...if Delilah was alive, Marcella had to know that, right? But Marcella had insisted...</p><p>No.</p><p>Elspeth...she had to be lying. Right?</p><p>But then….but if there was a chance. If she...if she could still be saved. Maker. Maker!</p><p>He waited until she’d spend the flood, staring at him, breathless and contemptuous. He met her eyes, searching. “She was like your sister, once.”</p><p>“Oh you’ll allow that one, will you?” she hissed, eyes narrowed, but he didn’t flinch. She drew in a breath, clearly calming herself, and nodded. “Yes,” she agreed quietly.</p><p>“Then it’s your duty, to - to see that she is safe.” His voice trembled, betraying the ferocity he tried to display.</p><p>“You. Dumb. Shit!"  She rubbed the bridge of her nose in demonstrative exasperation.  "At least I understand better, now. This whole time I thought you actually bothered to learn the facts and <em>still</em> bought into your father’s lies.”</p><p>“How <em>dar</em>-”</p><p>“Would you be willing to talk to her?” His words strangled off, and he stared at the woman, eyes wide and non comprehending.</p><p>“She...she isn’t here?” he said, uncertainly.</p><p>“No. Like I said, she’s in Amaranthine. <em>Do</em> keep up. Do you want to find yourself in a position where you can talk to her?”</p><p>“...What kind of a question--”</p><p>“A simple one, Howe,” she snarled. "I would hear your answer.”</p><p>He stared at Elspeth, hating to grant her power, hiss escaping through gritted teeth. “Yes.”</p><p>She nodded, and took a breath. “Will you listen, even if she says things you don’t want to hear?”</p><p>His eyes narrowed. “If you’ve blackmailed her--”</p><p>“Then you’d know. I rely upon your familial bond to let you discern the truth of the matter. If I’m blackmailing her, I expect no less than the full force of your fury in protecting her and seeking your revenge on me. Do you see the lack of concern on my face?”</p><p>“That vaunted bravery of the Couslands, in the face of an injured prisoner,” he sneered. “How do you expect me to protect her if I’m trapped here, I wonder? Did I misremember your intelligence?”</p><p>She sighed again, annoyed. “I’m going to cut you a deal I think you’ll accept and let you out, Nathaniel,” she explained very patiently. “So you can go talk to your sister.”</p><p>His breathing stopped for a moment, his body a taut bowstring. He didn’t dare miss a thing, didn’t dare miss a sign, staring Elspeth down, desperate to figure out her game. “What deal?” he asked, his voice a veiled fist.</p><p>“Darkspawn threatened this castle, Howe. The king and I must soon leave to attend to matters in the Bannorn, and we take our armies with us. Warden Commander Tabris stands alone with scant few to help protect the land. You may not like that Fergus gave the land to Wardens, but it was I who pressed for this. Know, then, your true enemy in this is not the Wardens, but me.” He sneered at the woman, hating that she would spell this out, as if he were stupid. “Before anything else, I’ll need you to swear to me to not harm or in any way impede Kallian and all under her command."</p><p>"They're just to get away with their crimes forever, then?" Nathaniel demanded, and she had the gall to openly roll her eyes.</p><p>"Even in the worst case interpretation, whatever twisted thoughts you have in your head--they stopped a dammed Blight, Howe.  Yes, I expect you to show them some regard.  Besides, this is doing you a favor. If you try for her, she’d swat you down like a fly. If you somehow managed to slither away from death, it would hardly matter, as all of Ferelden will rise up to take revenge on you for the insult to their heroine. You’d have to wait to be reunited with your sister in a coffin. All the same, the Warden Commander can’t afford to waste time on your insignificant tantrums. So that’s first."</p><p>His eyes narrowed.  "What else?"</p><p>She sighed. “Wait to take your revenge on me until you’ve spoken of these matters with your sister--” she held up a hand, strangling the objection on his lips “--yes, yes, or, should I be lying, verifying your sister’s fate was different than I’ve suggested. Let’s go with “go to Amaranthine and ask around.” I suggest Albert’s grocery store to start, but as long as you do a basic amount of information gathering, you should find your answer, and your sister."  She spread her hands.  "That's all I ask. Swear to abide by this, on your sister’s name, and your honor, I’ll let you out under my authority as heiress to the throne and the teyrnir of Highever, and return the belongings you arrived with, and provide you provisions for travel to Amaranthine. Got it? Don’t hurt or impede the Wardens, and wait to hurt me until you’ve been made certain I deserve it. Otherwise, you’re free to go and find out the truth.”</p><p>He stared at her, making a strangled noise in his throat, pacing the cell. That price was...absurdly low, for what she purported to offer. Leaving the Wardens alone was galling, but...frankly, he'd lost some of his burning hatred for them anyway.  He hadn't even managed to carry out his original plan of setting a trap to murder the Warden commander, after all. In the end , surrounded by the bitter nostalgia of his plundered childhood home, all he ended up wanting was to take some mementos, to remember his family by.</p><p>And she hadn't even bargained for her own safety.  But <em>why</em>? What was her game, here?  The best he could guess was her easily exploitable Cousland heritage was working against her, convincing herself she needed a fairer fight. That she wanted him freed so she might hunt him down under more sporting terms. But that...didn't feel correct. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”</p><p>The woman rolled her eyes. “How could accepting possibly put you in a worse situation than before? I’m taking the risk to myself, here.”</p><p>“Yes, the valiant and noble Cousland, praise be for what <em>scraps</em> you send my way.  Shall I slather praise on you for not murdering me with the rest of my family?” he snarled.</p><p>“Maker. Petty, too? I’m starting to believe you aren’t Nathaniel Howe. Which means I still have to find the man for, ah, Delilah’s sake. Before Fergus does.”</p><p>Threats of time--that was it. She was trying to pressure him to make a quick decision, to ignore her other plays. “That’s your game,” he finally decided. “Threats to my life mean nothing, but...you. You found the one leverage I can’t ignore, and you’ve gotten me to buy into it with nothing but your words.”</p><p>“Nothing you’re saying is convincing me it’s safe to let you out,” she growled.</p><p>“What do you want, should I bow and curtsey? Kiss your boots? You know damn well any performance in a jail cell means nothing!”</p><p>“And yet performance at least dictates you have some measure of self control!’ the woman snapped back. “All I’ve seen in this cell is a snapping, rabid dog! Are you an adult or just a bundle of explosive reactions?”</p><p>That...<em>damn</em> that woman. He finally straightened, spending a moment to calm himself. Cool grey eyes met hers, and the rage was decently well hidden, humming further below the surface than it had before. “As you say, Lady Elspeth.”</p><p>“Do you want out? Do you accept my deal?”</p><p>“I will not beg.”</p><p>“I’m not asking you too. But I must hear your word.”</p><p>“Then, yes. Release me, and I promise not to hurt or impede the Wardens or any under their command. I will learn the truth of or from my sister, and take no action against you until then. I so vow on Delilah’s name, and my own honor.”</p><p>She nodded. “Alright then, Howe. Let’s get you to your sister.”</p><p> </p><p>She was clearly terrified the moment she let him out of the cell, and Nathaniel wondered anew how much of that was an act. This had to be a plan of hers. But here she was, for all the world convinced he was about to murder her, after he’d just promised not to. Why, though? If she didn’t trust his word, then what was the point of any of this farce? All it accomplished was giving him an escape.</p><p>Was that her only game? Get him out of the castle for some reasons of her own?</p><p>But <em>curse</em> her, for bargaining so absurdly. She didn’t even try to bargain for her own safety, she actively baited him to seek her out, once he found out the truth about his sister. But if Delilah was truly alive, nothing else mattered but that. He had to check, and the damned Cousland knew it. Whatever she wanted of this, to buy herself time, to get rid of him that she might steal something from the castle, it didn’t matter, none of it did.  He had to admit he had been thoroughly snared in this.  If Delilah was alive, he had to know.</p><p>But he couldn’t just leave it at that, or he'd be completely vulnerable to her next play. The only way to predict a schemer was to understand their goals. But in this, he was at a loss. He used to be able to read her far more easily. He’d just dealt her mortal insults. The kinds that had her challenge Vaughn to duels, wiping the floor with his ass for underestimating her. And yet after serving them to her, from a man she had to know was her mortal enemy, she remained so committed to this strange pretense that she continued to act as though she'd just let him leave.</p><p>His mind raced even as he finished gearing up under the resentful eyes of the guards. Reinold sneered, but even he was smart enough not to stand in the way of a noble on a mission. Together, they headed for the stables, at a careful pace. Too much was unknown. He needed more information.</p><p>“How is it you’re alive?” he demanded.</p><p>“Why did you think I was dead?” she shot back.</p><p>He sneered. “Well, I knew the rumors that my father attacked your castle had to be overrated, but--”</p><p>She whirled on him then, ice in her eyes, the threat of death in her demeanor, and the few nearby guards tensed, hands reaching for their swords and bows. “Imply that one more time, Howe, and I’ll call every guard in the castle to riddle you with arrows right now. You’ll never find the truth of your sister, then.”</p><p>He almost did, for a moment. That was the original mission after all. But...but if Delilah was alive…</p><p>“Do yourself a favor,” she continued carefully, when she realized he hadn’t moved, her voice deadly. “And think before speaking, because you’ve used up all of my patience.”</p><p>Patronizing asshole. The worst part was, she was not without point. That was a foolish question to ask; they were still in public, after all. She’d never recant that kind of monstrous story where others could hear. Stepping more carefully, then. “I heard of the attack. You disappeared so thoroughly from the tales, up until the Landsmeet. And what I heard...the tales made no sense," he finally continued.  "The speech at the Landsmeet, reclaiming your heritage as Teyrna Cousland. A noble, hiding in the city itself. Appearing at the last hour, all to rally the nobles of the landsmeet? Crowned <em>princess</em>? These are stories too romantic to be real.” She snorted. “And my sources are...insistent that Highever is led by Teyrn Fergus Cousland, so I assumed that the stories were confused. That they’d mixed up the two daughters of teyrnirs, or which Cousland had survived. That tales had grown and twisted in the retelling.”</p><p>“My brother also survived, though he was not at the castle when the attack came. And yes, I’d been hiding in Denerim. At the Landsmeet I reclaimed my rights before I knew he still lived; but once I learned, well. Highever was his birthright, and his dream. Not mine. I just gave it back.” She hesitated, and sighed. “And I’m not a princess. The Queen and King haven’t adopted me. Thomas convinced us we  needed to decide the next in line, given that a Blight makes some things...uncertain. Fergus declined to take that from me. But once they have a child, my place is bumped, and I’m free once more.”</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>“Why are you even bothering to ask all this, Nathaniel?” she demanded. “Surely you believe I’d only lie to you, and you’ll soon be free to gather information yourself.” She paused. “Which you should have done better at the first time,” she muttered, in a voice he wasn’t sure if he was meant to overhear. Did she...know Marcella had found him? Was she trying to drive a wedge between them, was that it?</p><p>Not enough information. Too dangerous to defend that direction. Answer the surface question, not the implied one. He grimaced. “You know as well as I do that even lies to cover the truth can sometimes reveal the intentions of the teller.”</p><p>She snorted disparagingly and continued on, and Nathaniel hurried to catch up, careful that his pace not be unseemly. And as they made their way to the gates, he waited. Waited for her to make her move, waited for the rogue to finally reveal herself, to respond and take revenge for all the hatred he’d spent her way.</p><p>Instead she requisitioned a horse and a few minor supplies, attaching them to the horse and handing the reins over. He took them, uncertain. Would it be arrows in the back, then? She couldn’t just be letting him go.</p><p>Nothing was making sense. The ground felt like it was tilting underneath him even as she spoke, her words dry.</p><p>“I know you made it here relatively safely, but be reminded that Darkspawn roam the land, and the castle was just attacked,” she warned him. “They have better night vision than humans. And whatever you believe of your father, know that many of the peasantry feel he grew greedy and abused the land, so they aren’t keen on Howes at the moment.” She rolled her eyes as he sneered. “Or sure, fine, maybe that was just a propaganda tool I wielded, or whatever twisted thoughts you hold, the end result is the same. I surely don't need to convince you it's dangerous for Howes right now? Good then. Keep your wits about you, travel careful and smart. The kit is my own, and you should be well familiar with the ingredients within to craft poultice and poison alike from. This pack contains provisions that should last you for a week, more than enough time to make it to Amaranthine at even a slow and careful pace. And, should you need funds,” she grimaced, considering, and pulled off her glove.</p><p>Nathaniel froze when he saw what was nestled there. The ring he’d gifted her once, long ago. It was unmistakable. Memories gripped him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>8 years ago</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She’d come to meet him as he asked, and they stood together under the tree, their favorite willow, overlooking the lake. Nathaniel took a breath, stealing his nerves, and almost lost them again when he looked at her. Elspeth Cousland, daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland. Fierce, strong, beautiful.</p><p>“I’m leaving soon, you know,” Nathaniel told her.</p><p>“I...know,” Elspeth said slowly, confused. Her eyes twinkled with mischief even as she continued, her voice patient and patronizing, as if speaking to a child. “You wrote about this. It’s why I came to visit, despite leaving just months ago. You asked me to see you off. Have you forgotten?”</p><p>“I’m trying to frame the conversation, Kitten,” Nathaniel chided her, using the teasing nickname he’d bestowed on her after a rather hilarious but botched misadventure of hers. “I’ve a gift that...ah. Doesn’t make sense except as a parting present.”</p><p>“Ah.” Elspeth gave him a weak smile. “I don’t need presents, Nate, unless you can tell me you’re not leaving after all. I’ll miss you fiercely.”</p><p>His heart panged within him, staring at the young woman before him, wondering, wishing. “You’re just saying that because now you’re stuck with Thomas as the gentleman to entertain you when you come to visit Delilah.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Well, you’re not wrong,” she agreed, smile curving in catlike amusement as she teased him. “You know the passes he’s been making at me, and the rejections he’s been ignoring. What kind of gentleman are you, anyway, to abandon a lady in distress?”</p><p>Nathaniel snorted. “I’ve seen what you can do, my lady. I’m more worried I’ll come back to my brother being made a cripple than I am that your delicate virtue be threatened.”</p><p>She laughed. “C’mon, Nate, you know that’s not how I do things.”</p><p>“Fine, then, discovered in the middle of Amaranthine, naked and drenched in honey, covered with feathers.”</p><p>“That...I can’t deny,” she agreed, grinning at him, eyes dancing with shared mischief.</p><p>“Well. Far be it from me to leave a lady helpless,” he mused, and brought out his present. He handed her the small velvet bag, and warily she took it, pulling out the ring. The look on her face was surprised...and concerned.</p><p>That..wasn’t good. “It matches the one Delilah gave me. And you gave Delilah one, did you not?” he quickly inserted, covering his tracks with the prepared excuse. And damningly, she seemed to relax at that. Ah, well, it had been...a rather foolish hope anyway. She was a teyrn’s daughter; the only other woman in Ferelden with her status was Anora, and she was engaged to Prince Cailan. Elspeth could do so much better than an Arl’s son. “It’s...enchanted. Only you should be able to wear it, and it’s...supposed to help protect you. Not that you need it.”</p><p>She smiled, looking it over. “Show me your ring,” she demanded, and Nathaniel obliged, raising his hand and trying not to let his cheeks color when she held his hand, inspecting the ring Delilah had once given him, long ago.</p><p>“It does match,” she agreed, sounding pleased, and slipped his gift over her finger. “Oh! It’s warm!”</p><p>“The enchantment recognizes you.” Nathaniel smiled. “You like it?”</p><p>She gazed up at him, her smile warming by the moment, her eyes melting the heart of him. “It’s wonderful, Nathaniel. I love it. Thanks for...thanks.” Her eyes were overbright for a moment, and Nathaniel politely pretended to not see them, distracted by gazing over the lake. “Does this mean I’m basically a Howe sister now, too?”</p><p>Nathaniel chuckled, returning to look at her. “You and Delilah have always been thick as thieves. Maker, I’d trade you for Thomas if I could.” The lie wanted to stick in his throat, but he forced it out all the same. “You’ve, ah, of course you’re a sister, you silly goose. But now you hopefully won’t forget me when I leave.”</p><p>She laughed. “Forget you? Now who’s being a silly goose? I could never. I’m going to wrestle up the most agonizing sobs once you leave!” As if to punctuate her point, her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly smoothed her expression. “I’m just glad Delilah’s staying. I don’t...I don’t think I could bear losing both of my best friends.”</p><p>“Ah, Kitten,” he teased her, opening his arms to offer a hug, one she accepted in a heartbeat, throwing herself into him. He ignored how his heart panged within him; he’d had his answer, on that, and he’d known what it would be. She’d never been unclear, disliking the attention she received as the very eligible daughter of a teyrn. “You haven’t gotten rid of me, not yet. I’ll just be gone awhile. And you promised to write, you know.”</p><p>“Of course! And if you don’t write back, I’ll ring down such a scold on you--”</p><p>“I’ll write, I’ll write,” he agreed, laughing. “I promise.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Present day</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“--strip the personalized enchantment to sell it, of course, though it should still fetch you a fairly decent coin for the other enchantment, which,” she swallowed heavily. “Worked.” The word had a weight to them that promised a story.</p><p>...one he’d never hear.</p><p>Her eyes probed his for a moment, and he took care not to flinch, terrified she’d see the turmoil she’d just provoked in him. “It’s fitting you take this, as this ring, ah, if you don’t remember, it was your gift--”</p><p>“I remember it,” he rasped, hands cracking as he forced them to accept the ring. It dropped into his hands with finality. She’d kept this? After all that went down...she’d kept it?</p><p>He stared at the woman before him, for the first time feeling truly lost and adrift.</p><p>She nodded back. “Questions?</p><p>“...Why? Why do this?”</p><p>“I meant practical questions,” she returned flatly, but Nathaniel would not be deterred, staring at her. She sighed. “You think I’ve lied this entire time. Why ask, would my answer change now? It’s not like you can threaten me <em>more</em> in the shadows of the guards towers.”</p><p>Nathaniel said nothing, emotions coursing through him he couldn’t understand, couldn’t control. He turned to face the horse, vaulting nimbly on it, and stared at the open gates, the guardsman glaring at him but making no move to stop him. His grip on the saddle tightened. <em>This is going to be the last time I see her, </em>he realized, and the thought was too painful to bear. “Amaranthine,” he said carefully. “Come with me. If you’re true, I’ll find her quicker that way.”</p><p>She stared at him, then laughed, ugly and harsh. The tense but even expression on her face evaporated, leaving nothing but rage. “You want more favors of me? Fuck you, you unbelievable scum. I’ll not spend another fucking moment in your miserable company, Howe. I’ve made allowances for your grief, but my patience for your tantrums stretches no further. You made your way once, and you can do it again, or perish on the road. Then maybe you can finally do some good in the world, providing a fully belly to hungry wolves. Better you than a peasant’s only livestock.”</p><p>The horse danced underneath him as he struggled to control himself. A pit of yawning despair surrounded him, its maw ready to swallow him whole.</p><p>Was he wrong? Was he mistaken?</p><p>And if he was….what had he done?</p><p>“Goodbye then, Cousland. May you get your wish,” he gasped out, and turned to flee.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Arc 1: Settle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Lady Elspeth Cousland has a reckoning with her dearly trusted friend, all to justify her actions.</p><p>CW: reference to suicide</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland.  </em>17th of Ferventis, Dragon 31.</p><p> </p><p>I was trying not to storm through the halls, but my expression was clearly enough to have people jumping out of the way.  I slammed my way into the Warden commander’s office, and Kallian looked up, and by her frown apparently had been informed of the Cousland’s release of Nathaniel.  She opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.</p><p>“I,” I began, and my control over my voice broke.  “<em> Didn’t want to bias you my ass! </em>   What the <em> fuck </em> , Kallian?! Why didn’t you <em> fucking warn me properly?! </em>”</p><p>“You’re the one who wanted to stay behind and talk,” she said defensively.  “Did you r-”</p><p>“Yes, because the son of Rendon Howe showing up unexpectedly requires careful handling!  If I’d known, if you’d told me, I’d’ve had time to, to think, and plan!”</p><p>“Careful handling?”  Kallian repeated, incredulous.  “Your brother said “If a Howe shows up bitching about inheritance, send him to me.”  Seems <em> pretty damn simple!” </em></p><p>“Precisely,” I growled.  “Ferg is pissed off he didn’t get to take part in our exclusive “killing Howes society”, and wouldn’t give any the courtesy of a fair trial!”</p><p>“Would that be so bad?”  she fumed.  “That--that asshole!  After what his father did, what his brother did! The man thinks the assault on Highever was justified!  I shudder to think what he’d feel about my alienage getting <em> sold into slavery! </em>”</p><p><em> “He’s been in Starkhaven for 8 years! </em> ” I snarled.  “He’s an ass, and an idiot, and sexist, and fucking <em> apparently </em> fucking <em> suicidal </em> , but he had <em> nothing </em> to do with his brother and father’s actions, and has no idea what they even were!”  I paused, trying to rein in my anger a bit, trying to reach out.  I couldn’t do it looking into my best friend’s face, the Hero’s fury was feeding mine, so I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple, taking deep breaths, trying so hard to settle myself.  Why was this so impossible?  How had Nathaniel gotten this far under my skin?  He wasn’t the first to call me a whore, but-</p><p>
  <em> -But he’s maybe the last I’d’ve expected it of. </em>
</p><p>I let out a small breath as if punched.  The pain of acknowledging that truth warred with my rage, and caught between the two emotions, I found...something like a center to cling to.  My voice was strained but at least it wasn’t so wildly out of control.  “I know he seems like...just the most unbelievable asshole right now, but this is wildly, <em> absurdly </em> out of character for him.  Just from <em> talking </em> to him I hate him so much I want to <em> kill </em> him.”  Kallian stared at me, eyes wide, knowing how little I preferred to resort to murder.  “And if <em> I </em> have this much problem controlling my temper around him, Ferg is going to go <em> apoplectic </em>. And that, I won’t allow.  Executioners through anger can't be who we are.”</p><p>“Ok, fine! You didn’t want to kill Nathaniel Howe! <em> Why </em> are you chastising <em> me </em>about this?”  </p><p>“Because I’m angry! And unsettled! An old friend of mine, who’s brother I murdered and father I helped murder, he, he just called me a whore and thinks I’d sleep with your boyfriend if it got me the throne, and everything’s all fucked up.  And you, you walked me into a trap and I thought I could trust you!”  I blurted out, tears suddenly flooding my eyes before I realized they were there. </p><p>Oh no.  Oh <em> Maker. </em>  How could I break that thoroughly?  </p><p>But as bad as it was for me, it was so much worse for the Warden Commander. Kallian sagged like her steel spine had suddenly been ripped out, grief and guilt flooding her expression without restraint.  Silence reigned.  Her voice was heavy when she finally broke it.  “I did,” she agreed, unable to meet my eyes.  “I’m sorry.”</p><p>I didn’t trust myself to immediately speak.  The moment stretched. “Why?”  I finally whispered.</p><p>“I was so sure he was lying,” the Hero said in a quiet voice.  “I remembered you’d said he was the smart one in a family of canny people, so, I assumed a real Nathaniel Howe wouldn’t be dumb enough to attack a Warden stronghold single-handedly.  But it...it felt selfish dragging up the Howe name to <em> you </em>just to prove a lie.  I didn’t want to cause you such anguish.  Better to bring you in and send you away once you didn’t recognize him, none the wiser.”</p><p><em> Fucking protective ass heroes and their misplaced shielding instincts. </em>  “You patronizing <em> ass </em>.  Protecting my precious emotional state rather got away from you there,” I said tightly.  </p><p>“Yes,” the warrior agreed, her voice small.  She opened her mouth to speak, but trailed off, wind knocked out of her sails.  </p><p>I let the moment stretch, struggling to contain my own emotions even as my friend stared at me with too much sadness and sympathy to bear. I closed her eyes, finally, protecting myself against the pain. <em> Stay on track. You’re here for a reason. </em>“I, I assume you know I released him.”</p><p>“....yes.  I need to understand why.  That man could be a threat to any of us.”</p><p>“I extracted an oath that he can’t hurt you or any under your command. He’ll follow it.  And, I...I don’t want more Howe blood on Cousland hands.  Not like this.”  </p><p>Kallian hesitated, but the bite was still gone from her voice. “You’re not the only one who lost something to the Howes, you know.”</p><p>My eyes snapped open, furious.  “To. <em> Rendon, </em>” I clarified, trying to growl, but with my throat still clogged with unsightly emotions it came out more of a blurble.  “Nathaniel is not his father. And he should be free to make his own mistakes, and not to be bound by the same fate just for sharing blood.”</p><p>The elf’s eyes narrowed, canny mind processing.  “He called you a bitch, just like his father did, and I <em> saw </em> how badly he shook you,” she growled, fists clenching.  “And you’re clearly terrified of him.  There is no way you’d release a crazed dangerous man like that of your own free will.  <em> What </em>does he have on you?”</p><p>“The rogue in me is thrilled to <em> pieces </em> you’re considering angles like that.  You remember Ceorlic calls me worse at every party he throws, right?  Anyway, he’s got nothing. He-”</p><p>“Elsa, that man came here with unclear but hostile intentions, seriously injured many of my guards, required four Wardens to restrain him, and brought <em> you </em> to tears. <em> You </em> might not want him dead, and <em> maybe </em>he keeps his oaths, but you’d damn well better convince me not to jump on a horse now and slide a sword in his back!”</p><p>“Because I’m <em> begging </em> you not to!”</p><p>Kallian’s fist slammed into the table, and pure animal fear briefly surged through me as I jumped back. But tears filled the hero's eyes.  “Dammit, Elsa, he <em> hurt </em> you!”</p><p>“I…”  I hesitated. Maker, she hadn’t even seen the worst of what he’d thrown.  If she found out….would she be as bullheaded as Ferg?  </p><p>Technically I hadn’t even made him swear off revenge.  I was...fairly confident Delilah would set him straight...but if Kallian knew….</p><p>“He’s not a threat anymore. Really.  Look, before I let him go, he was...made to understand that if he ever tried to harm anything under your protection, there wouldn’t be enough left of him to send to his sister. Who he wasn’t even aware was <em> still alive. </em>”</p><p>Kallian’s eyebrows lifted, and she finally met my eyes again. "He--he didn't know?"</p><p>I sighed heavily, some anger siphoned off.  “Oh. Right. Should have...started with that. Maker, I’m so…”  No.  Don’t admit it. Move forward, move on.  I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, before finally settling myself and meeting the hero’s eyes once more.  “Look. He thought his whole family lost, slaughtered.  He was a man with nothing left to lose.  But now...well.  He has someone to protect.  He’ll go to her, his temper will cool. He won’t trouble you again, and my conscience doesn’t have to bear his blood. Everybody wins. Sort of.”</p><p>She hesitated.  “Why give him this mercy?  What is he, to you, that he can hurt you so terribly?”</p><p>“He…”  <em> “You were never my sister!”  “Bitch!”  </em> my throat caught.  “He was my friend, once.  Possibly my best friend, before you.”  I shook my head, tears spilling out anew. “I just...I didn’t think he’d lose faith in me so thoroughly is all. That <em> I </em> would bring out such….bitter <em> hatred! </em> And it, it hurts to have...lost a friendship like that.” </p><p>"Oh, Elsa..."</p><p>I swallowed, trying to smile, trying to laugh, trying to make a joke of it, anything to not acknowledge how utterly ruined and raw I was feeling, but nothing but bitterness came forth.  “But that’s what Rendon does.  He taints and destroys and leaves things wilted and poisoned in his shadow.  So yes.”  I sniffled, finally drying my eyes with a handkerchief that Kallian pressed in my hands.  When did that...it didn’t matter.  “This is all...emotional for me, a loss I didn’t even know I had.  And <em> yes </em> , I’m being selfish, but...he deserves a chance.  I’m sure, I <em> know </em> , Nathaniel’s a better person than this, this wild dog in a cage.  Just...just not around <em> me </em>, I guess.”</p><p>Fierce green eyes probed me.  “You’re sure this was the right decision?”</p><p>“It was <em> one </em> moment of explosive anger in the face of his supposed nemesis. He’s...he’s not supposed to be like this. I want him to have the same chance as his sister, to just...find a life, outside in the fetters of their father.”  <em> Or the poison that is </em>me.</p><p>The moment stretched, though it always had but one conclusion.  Commander Tabris sighed heavily, sagging slightly. “Couldn’t you have just asked?  I’m supposed to be the one making decisions about prisoners, here.”</p><p>I gave a bitter, twisted smile.  “When nobles see things we think we’re entitled to, we just <em> take </em> them, Kallian.  Best you learn that real quick, now that you’re one of us.”</p><p>“I’ll bear that in mind,” she agreed, but no annoyance found purchase in her tone.  She sighed heavily.  “And what will I tell your brother?”</p><p>“Nothing.  But should he learn, and call you to account, or should your damnable forthrightness compel you to speak on this immediately and put the Howe at considerable risk, just tell him I handled it, and you assumed, quite reasonably, that I would have informed him myself.”</p><p>“And <em> are </em> you going to inform him?” she demanded.</p><p>My lips quirked, the first twitch of humor I’d felt in...awhile.  “You can’t assume things you directly know, Kally,” I chided her.  “My decision. My consequences<em> . </em> Also, most relevantly, <em> my brother. </em>"</p><p>“Fucking <em> nobles, </em>” Kallian finally conceded with a sigh.  She lifted an eyebrow.  “And if the Howe does come back?”</p><p>I hesitated.  It wouldn’t be in his character, but...then, little of what he’d said tonight was.  Was I being foolish for making assumptions of Nathaniel on this?  No, no.  Whatever else, he’d try to find his sister first, if for no other reason than protect her.  After that, if he still sought revenge...it’d be me he’d come for, and I’d be protected by the royal army, and not whatever ragtag group Kallian could cobble together.  “He gets one chance, but not more.  He’s squandered the last of my goodwill in this.  If he chooses to die by your blade, I’d not deny you the deserved revenge. If he’s not hostile, I’d hear him out, since he might just want to apologize, but even then...do with him as you will.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Arc 1: Discover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Nathaniel Howe seeks to fulfill his vow, wary of what traps he might find along the way.  His love and admiration for his family will allow him to do no less. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Elspeth has not yet lost the ability to catch him off guard.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><em> Nathaniel Howe,  </em>22nd of Ferventis, Dragon 31.</p><p> </p><p>Travel to Amaranthine was even more difficult than Nathaniel had been prepared for. He was not without skills, and his time in the jail cell wasn't long enough to have truly atrophied anything.  But a chance encounter with bandits--malnourished, ill equipped, desperate bandits--nearly cut his journey short. As a result, he was forced to confront the possibility that he was weaker than he’d ever been, and more affected by his time in Vigil’s Keep than he might care to acknowledge.  Gripped by uncharacteristic hesitation, he avoided encounters wherever possible, which left him all too alone with his thoughts.  </p><p>They often drifted to Marcella. It was she who provided him travel from Kirkwall, after all, plucking him from the poverty he’d experienced the moment he forced himself to abruptly leave his knight master’s service.  Marcella had given him a new lease on life, sheltered him from the horrors of the Blight and refugees, clothed him and fed him, and gave him purpose.  </p><p>He owed her a great deal.  And he was ashamed of himself, that a seed of doubt had taken root in his heart.  </p><p><em> This is what Elspeth does, </em> he reminded himself bitterly, huddled in the trees under moonlight as fall leaves gently fell around him. <em> She twists and tells stories and makes you...makes you question everything that’s true. </em></p><p>But.  </p><p>It was Delilah.  He tried to resist, but he couldn't help wondering and hoping.  Some small part of him thought it might be true.  </p><p>
  <em> She found the one hook I can’t ignore! Of course it’s wormed into my heart. </em>
</p><p>It was ridiculous.  If Delilah were alive, and in Amaranthine, then <em> Marcella would know that. </em>  </p><p>Then again...Marcella should have told him Elspeth was alive.</p><p><em> She was trying to protect me, probably, </em> Nathaniel admitted to himself with a sigh. <em> Father always thought Elspeth was my biggest weakness.   </em></p><p>Shameful memories dragged him down.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<em>9 years ago</em><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Father, thank you for taking the time to speak with me,” Nathaniel began, nervous.  He knew his father was a busy man. But he  would always make time for him when he asked.</p><p>“Of course, my son. You rarely ask unless it’s important.  What’s on your mind?”  </p><p>“I. Ah.  You plan to write to Teyrn Cousland, soon, about Els--Lady Elspeth’s completion of her training do you not?”  he asked carefully.</p><p>His father raised an eyebrow.  “That is the plan, yes.  I do not believe she will prove an embarrassment to our family name. Though I doubt Bryce will thank me when he realizes the consequences of letting his wily daughter have her way in this.”</p><p>“But...I’m not done with my training. Neither is Thomas.  Why does she have to leave?  Is she so much better than us?  I mean, sure, she’s better at brawling , but--”</p><p>Surprise registered on his father's face, then, cutting him off, and a kind sympathy in his eyes.  “Nathaniel it was never my intention to train her as thoroughly as my own sons.  Bryce knew this, as did the young lady herself.  She asked to be trained in the basics, but true mastery takes a lifetime of pursuit.” </p><p>“Then why can’t she stay?  I know she wants to learn.”</p><p>His father sighed heavily, then.  “A thousand reasons, Nathaniel, some of which you should be able to guess.  It’s a father’s duty to find a suitable match for his daughter, and she comes of age, soon.  That she’s being pursued by suitors even here had her father rather nervous about making a headstrong choice."</p><p>Nathaniel kept his face smooth; Elsa had seem purely annoyed by her opportunistic suitors and considered them all distractions, so he rather doubted her father's fears were grounded. <br/>
<br/>
"His lordship prefers to bring her back home, where he can keep a closer eye on her,” he said, his tone approving.  “That said, he still intends to actually leave the final decision up to her, so I suppose some things never change.  Ah, he always was a soft touch.”</p><p>“So she wouldn’t have to leave if she were...engaged?” Nathaniel pressed.</p><p>“Maker’s breath,” his father murmured, exasperation coloring his expression.  “At least you’re being more subtle about this than Thomas was.” A surge of jealousy took Nathaniel, but he suppressed it.  “You wish to court Lady Elspeth.”</p><p>“I...yes, father, with your permission.”</p><p>He sighed, sitting back in his chair, rubbing an eyebrow as if nursing a migraine.  Nathaniel felt a building horror to realize his father was disappointed .  “I’d thought you’d viewed her as a sister, as Delilah does, but I suppose some things are impossible to ignore.  This, Nathaniel, is why men and women should never train together.  Feelings get...confused.”</p><p>“I’m--I’m not confused!”  Nathaniel protested.  “We get along!  She’s kind, and funny, and pretty--” he cut himself off as his father raised his hand to stop him.</p><p>“Nathaniel. I don’t need to hear awkward paeans to the girl.”  He tapped his fingers on the desk, as Nathaniel stewed in steadily growing mortification.  “In this, Thomas is your superior.  He knew the benefits of such a match, and led with that.  If I were to allow this, you’d have to convince me you’re a better match than he is.”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t...think I needed to state the obvious,” Nathaniel muttered unhappily.  How was he in a position of competing with his baby brother in this?  “She’s a teyrn’s daughter.  An alliance between Howe and Cousland would bind our houses together as it should be.  And it’s not impossible she inherits someday, she’s clever, and--”</p><p>“Nathaniel,” his father cut in dryly, and with a blush, Nathaniel cut himself off.  No more paeans, right.  </p><p>It was clear his father was going to let him continue, however, and so after a minute, he did.  “She is the daughter of one of the most prestigious families in Ferelden. And the...unique circumstances of our training means she already has close ties to us.  You said her father’s determined to let her choose, and I know she prefers me to Thomas. Wouldn’t she be a good match to our House?”</p><p>“Nathaniel, some day, when we have a great deal of time, I’ll explain to you the dangers of marrying a headstrong wife, especially when such a match has been rooted in sentiment.  Sufficed to say, sentiment withers, but strength remains.  In any marriage, there must be a leader, and a follower, a head, and a body.  It is the man’s duty to lead the household, and the wife’s to follow.  And if you marry a woman who does not sufficiently submit to her place, your household will be plagued with disorder.  And I’ve met few young women more...willful than little Elspeth.  Thomas may be weak yet, but he lacks the blinders of sentiment that would prevent him from doing what needs to be done to ensure a happy, healthy marriage to young Elspeth.  But it is clear to me you, by contrast, are blinded by sentiment. And you are not strong enough for this.”</p><p>“I--I’m not blinded! And I am strong enough!” he protested.</p><p>“Oh?  Then would you care to tell me what you’ve been spending your evenings doing, of late, when we reside in the Amaranthine estate?”</p><p>Shame burned him.  He’d thought his father hadn’t caught wind of him sneaking out with Delilah and Elspeth to mingle with the commoners, but...of course his father knew.  His father always knew.</p><p>He shook his head.  “I know well how a pretty face can become powerful snares. Trust me when I say I am only looking out for your interests, Nathaniel.  That woman is your greatest weakness, as of now, and you lack the strength to bring her to heel. Or can you look me in the eyes and convince me that you could truly bring her to heel, that she would submit to you?”</p><p>At this, Nathaniel finally hesitated, and lowered his gaze, shame consuming him.  </p><p>“Oh Nathaniel,” his father murmured kindly.  “I hate seeing you like this.  But you needed to know the truth.”</p><p>“We would be happy,” Nathaniel said tightly, still unable to meet his father’s eyes.  “I...I like her a great deal, father.”</p><p>The moment stretched and writhed, and finally, his father sighed again.  “This simply will not do, but I have a solution. Your mother has made a...suggestion, while it’s a touch heavy on womanly sentiment, there’s merit to it.  Perhaps there is a way to forge you into a strong enough person, after all.”</p><p>And though he trusted his father, despite himself, worry filled his heart.  </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Present Day</em>
</p><p>Emotions were heating at him, at the memory of his father making the decision to cast him off to Starkhaven.  But he forced himself to calm down, to take a step back, and look at it with a critical eye.  There was no doubt that a part of him--a small part, to be sure, but an unshakable one--believed her.  That he would find his sister. </p><p>This needed to be purged.</p><p>It was foolish.  Elspeth’s lie made no sense.  If Elspeth truly wanted to convince him of something, she should have told him Delilah was in Denerim, or perhaps Highever, or Redcliffe.  Somewhere far away, difficult to verify.  Instead, she claimed it was Amaranthine.   </p><p>The very riskiness of that had likely been the seed of his downfall, accepting her deal and letting that obvious falsehood worm its way into his heart--why would she pick a lie so easily discovered?  If there was one city a Nathaniel might have an information network in, it was Amaranthine. And, sure, maybe she was just taking a risk, having struck lucky gold that Nathaniel hadn’t actually been in Amaranthine, and <em> couldn’t </em> immediately refute her.  But that explanation felt weak.</p><p>
  <em> No, I’m going about this wrong.  I can’t prove she’s lying, yet, and she knows that. So think. What does she get out of this? </em>
</p><p>Well, she lost him as a prisoner, certainly, but Nathaniel wasn’t much value, anyway.  And while he couldn’t be fully certain he hadn’t been followed, with the precautions he was taking, it was highly unlikely.  </p><p>Of course, she didn’t need to follow him, strictly speaking, if she knew where he was going.</p><p>Perhaps he needed to consider that Elspeth wanted Nathaniel in Amaranthine for other reasons. </p><p>Ah.  Of course.  There was an obvious solution here, and he was a fool for missing it.  She’d been unable to ferret out the Howe network there, and hoped to track him.  If he went to Amaranthine and stumbled about, he risked leading her straight to them.  Of course she had no need to hunt him down; she could just take an easy and protected journey to Amaranthine, wait for him to arrive, and let him do all the work of exposing the Howe loyalists for her.</p><p>It made a bitter sense, and his insides tightened with coiled relief, the fear of seeing the jaws of a trap and narrowly avoiding them, and wondering what else might litter his path.  She knew him too well, after all; it didn’t matter that her bait was absurd and so self evidently untrue.  She <em> knew </em> he’d have to investigate for himself.</p><p>Well.  He’d vowed to try and find his sister, and that he would surely do.  But it was too dangerous to try and make contact with anyone connected to Marcella, and so he must do this alone.  Elspeth’s bindings of his vow here were laughably--concerningly, really--light, and surely there were other traps he must ferret out. But he’d be damned if he made himself any less than he was just because she had proved so faithless.</p><p>He would fulfill his vow.  He would find the truth of his sister.  And then--whatever plots she weaved, whatever traps she lay, he would find his way through them. </p><p>And they would have a <em> reckoning.  </em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>In the end, it was embarrassingly, <em> damningly </em> easy.  </p><p>He went about in an armored mask in Amaranthine, not being a fool.  It wasn’t even that unusual, as there were plenty of folks about who suffered heavy scarring or worse from the Blight.  He got to the city, thinking to secure lodgings, but on a whim, deciding to first scope out Albert’s grocery story. </p><p>Back when Delilah, Elsa and himself used to sneak out together, Albert was one of the few commoners they’d struck up a bond with, and he’d known the man was sweet on his sister.  It was as good of a place to start as any.  And yet, he entered the store, browsing the wares, and an unmistakable voice rang out. </p><p>“Love, I think we’re going to need new witherstalk sap soon!”</p><p>Whatever conversation followed from that, Nathaniel didn’t hear, suddenly desperate to catch a glimpse himself in a way that defined sanity.  Before the grocer could object, he’d darted behind the counter, glimpsing through the doorway.</p><p>And there she was.  Grown, changed, but unmistakable. </p><p>“Delilah,” he breathed.</p><p>“Hey now, you can’t be back here!”  Albert objected.</p><p>“What’s this? Do I--”  Delilah began, and he tore off his mask.  Her face morphed into astonishment, then delight.  “Nathaniel!”  she shrieked, launching herself at him.  And for the first time in 8 years, they embraced.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Seeing the family reunion Albert had cheerfully shuffled them back to the house--<em> their </em> house--while he saw to the store. Delilah was beside herself with giddy delight at seeing her brother, seeming unfettered in a way that defied comprehension.  Especially given the humble state of their abode.</p><p>“Oh Delilah, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Nathaniel said softly, unable to wait for her to finish making the tea.  </p><p>“You were gone, Nathaniel, it happens.  And I’m fine, if you haven’t noticed,” she retorted in amusement.  </p><p>“Yes, but...you’ve fallen on such hard times,” he said softly, gazing about their modest house.  “I swear, I will find a way to--”</p><p>“Nathaniel, I married Albert out of love,” she cut in.  “We’ve been seeing each other for years, now.  And now that monster of a man we called father is finally out of the picture, I was free to follow my heart.”</p><p>Ugly, dark feelings gripped Nathaniel’s heart. “Monster?  Delilah, don’t you think you’re overstating things?”</p><p>Delilah looked over him with a keen eye.  “You weren’t here, Nathaniel.  You don’t know what happened.”</p><p>Nathaniel met her gaze evenly.  “So tell me.”</p><p>And she did.</p><p> </p><p>What followed were the worst hours of Nathaniel’s life.  He tried to resist.  Wanted to believe she was lying, mistaken.  But while Delilah was kind, she was also implacable. Nor was she given to exaggeration, or flights of fancy.  Methodically and without mercy, she slowly laid out the events of the year.  The atrocities his father had committed.  The fall of the Howes.  </p><p>And how he’d always been blind to his true character.</p><p>His objections, she answered.  Perhaps the Couslands had been traitors--no. They had not, she had proof of where he fabricated his evidence, twisting a few trips Bryce had made to Orlais to have sinister trails.  And even so, it was a surprise attack on the eve of the king’s call for service.</p><p>Perhaps there really had been a plague in the alienage--no. And she herself had seen the documents with Rendon's witnessing seal, selling Fereldens into slavery to Tevinter.</p><p>Perhaps Delilah was being blackmailed, and at this, she finally scoffed.</p><p>“Do whatever you need to to see for yourself.  If there’s a power out there that wants something of me, they haven’t really tried to push for anything. It’s true that sometimes I get...approached, by Howes, but ever since I formally renounced my claims to the arling, they’ve mostly left me alone.  Honestly, I almost suspect Elsa’s been exerting her influence to protect me--”</p><p>He sucked in a breath, as if struck.  “Would she withdraw it, if you recanted any of this?”</p><p>“Nathaniel!”  Delilah protested, aghast.  “How can you think she’d--oh, no.”  Worry filled her eyes.  “What aren’t you telling me, right now?  Come to think of it--how did you get back here in the first place?”</p><p>Nathaniel closed his eyes, in pain.  No hope for it but to rip off the bandage.  And so he shared his own story with Delilah. Of leaving Ser Varley’s service, to spare him the shame. Of his difficult journey to try and come back to Ferelden.  Of Marcella reaching out--”</p><p>“Marcella,” Delilah hissed, furious, but held her peace.  “Was Theodore involved too?  No, never mind.  Continue, please,” she ordered imperiously.  </p><p>Of how she’d sheltered him. And gave him purpose.</p><p>Horrifying, selfish, dark purpose.</p><p>Delilah stared at him with wide eyes, looking desperate, but unwilling to interrupt the story before its horrifying conclusion.</p><p>“And so I was instructed to get the Cousland to kill me in a fit of rage.  I thought...I thought it would protect what Howes there were left.”</p><p>The enormity of what he’d done was slowly beginning to overtake him, and he couldn’t even meet his sister’s eyes, staring at the teacup that had long gone untouched.  She took it from his hands and he scarcely noticed, trying to offer comfort he didn’t want.  “But it was Elspeth.”</p><p>“Thank the Maker for that,” Delilah breathed.  “You couldn’t, could you?  Not with <em> her. </em>”</p><p>“I couldn’t get her to kill me, no,” Nathaniel agreed stiffly.  The pit of despair threatened to swallow him whole; he couldn’t face it, let alone expose it.   “Instead, she let me out.  Told me to find you.  Called me a few names, for being so <em> stupid </em>.”</p><p>Delilah collapsed against him in relief, laughing as if the trap had been passed, as if the arrow hadn’t hit its mark.  And gently, she explained what Nathaniel was already damningly becoming aware of.  That he’d been made a fool of.  </p><p>That Marcella had tried to get him killed.</p><p>The rest of the evening passed in a daze.  Emotions were too high to continue, and while Delilah tried to engage him in light banter, Nathaniel could do nothing.  They offered him shelter for as long as he needed, and he was in no position to refuse.  </p><p>Late at night, he lay in the scratchy guest bed, staring at the ceiling.  He pulled out the ring, staring at it, twisting it in his hands, unable to fend off the overwhelming surge of emotions and realizations battering him.</p><p>
  <em> Many Howes--myself included--have done monstrous things. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I must set these right. </em>
</p><p>Nathaniel had never considered himself one given over to despair, and yet, his attempt on the Warden Commander's life was clearly nothing but that. His vision clearer, now, he realized he'd never thought he had hope of defeating her; it was merely a spiteful attempt to die on her blade.  </p><p>But now that he knew the Wardens hadn't tarnished his family name--that was all his father--the need to do something, to <em>correct</em> this injustice, this mistake, overwhelmed him, and the seeds of a plan began to form.  His sister, at least, was safe, and still well liked by her community.  But the Howe name had been tarnished by his father's actions, and those that supported him.  He had to stop them. And then he had to work to restore it.</p><p>As for Elspeth-</p><p>
  <em>"I don’t think I could bear losing both of my best friends."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I’ll not spend another fucking moment in your miserable company, Howe."</em>
</p><p>He clenched the ring tightly, feeling it bite into his hand.  That mistake had been his, and his alone. And he saw now through her eyes the man she once thought of as a dear friend, walking exactly in this footsteps of his father. In one stupid moment, he'd destroyed everything they once had. </p><p>Despair threatened to overwhelm him again. Mistakes must be rectified, right?</p><p>But he had no idea how to fix this one.  Or if he even should.</p><p>
  <em>Maker, please. Give me an idea.  Anything.</em>
</p><p>But nothing came forth. She'd wished to never see him again.</p><p>Perhaps he needed to just accept that some mistakes were beyond salvaging.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><br/>
1st of Matrinalis, Dragon 31.<br/>
<br/>
The truth was such a useful tool of his trade, when wielded effectively. Half truths, biased truths, just enough truth sprinkled in to make the rest of the lies more believable--deadly weapons that could sunder relationships and lead to wars. And in this case, it was the pure, unadulterated truth that hurt him the most.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re a monster,” Nathaniel said quietly, facing the corpse that was Marcella. Only one fate had ever been destined for her, when he learned the truth. Of how she’d sheltered and manipulated him, tried to use him for her nefarious ends.<br/>
<br/>
Lead like a lamb to slaughter.<br/>
<br/>
No, no, that wasn’t right. He’d chosen, hadn’t he? Manipulated, sure, but just because he had hooks didn’t mean he didn’t also have will. He’d walked down the path willingly to his own destruction, poisoning everything in his wake.<br/>
<br/>
“I am my father’s son,” he acknowledged. Marcella, of course, had no reply. “For better or worse, I have his ambitions. His cunning. His…” his voice caught. He hadn’t known. Sure, his father had always had something of a black temper, and the fights between his mother and father had...not been pleasant to watch. Nathaniel often hid in the trophy room to avoid them.</p><p>But that was…Surely his mother had provoked...</p><p><em>No.  That was without excuse,</em> he reminded himself tiredly. <em>Delilah was right. I was always blind to him.</em> He sat down heavily, staring at the charred ruins around him. He was a rogue, and for 8 years had trained as a squire, but he never forgot his first lessons. His father had trained him in the art of being an assassin, and there was a grim irony in knowing he’d accomplished that duty quite so well. There’d be no witnesses, at least. One more dark mark on his character, a loose ending taken care of. Marcella’s normal estate still had her servants, of course, and all the potentially innocent people in her circles. But his first cousin once removed was a canny and ambush predator; and paranoid, as well, and had been hiding in this small safehouse, on a traveler’s road but well outside of any town.<br/>
<br/>
Did she believe her own lies, about a Cousland purge?<br/>
<br/>
<em>Or, she could have been right. Had the Crown been hunting for you...I’ve no doubt you deserved it.</em><br/>
As it stood, only Marcella and her loyal seneschal had been caught here, and Nathaniel was content with that.<br/>
<br/>
Well, not quite content.<br/>
<br/>
<em>I’ve my own family’s blood on my hands, now, forever more, </em>he mused.<em> I truly am the lowest of scum.</em> “Don’t think too badly on me, Marcella,” he murmured. “After all, you tried to kill me first. I was just better at it.”<br/>
<br/>
Empty sockets stared back at him, a frail whisper of the stern gaze she wielded so effectively in life.<br/>
<br/>
“And I’m not just my father’s son, either. Oh, certainly, I’ve achieved some measure of the revenge I’ve sought, and gotten my satisfaction from you. But I am also my mother’s son. And the poison from the Howes...it must be purged. This land must be healed. And so I will see to it. No matter the cost.” He spat on the ground, a final dismissal of the ghost that might haunt him here, and stared at the horizon. Sure enough, figures crested it, right on schedule.<br/>
<br/>
“Time to face judgment,” he murmured, and stood to present himself.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“You want to <em>what</em>?” Commander Tabris demanded, staring at him, aghast.<br/>
<br/>
“I want to join the Wardens. I want to commit my life to righting the wrongs my father did, and facing the remainders of the darkspawn where he could not.”<br/>
<br/>
“I command the Wardens, Howe. You think I want to work with you? <em>Elsa</em> released you, I’ll remind you. That would not have been my choice,” the elf growled.<br/>
<br/>
<em>That’s Lady Elspeth to you,</em> he nearly growled. I<em>f this farce is to be believed--that a commoner inherits my father’s estate--the least you could do is pretend to understand propriety</em>. But he didn’t say it out loud, his features calm and expressionless. “By the Lady Elspeth’s grace, I was given my freedom, and a chance to see the error of my ways,” he said smoothly.<br/>
<br/>
“Lady Elspeth’s grace, huh? That supposed to mean something, coming from you? Didn’t you call her a whore?”<br/>
<br/>
Her companions shot a look at their commander, and back at Nathaniel, who struggled to maintain his composure. Mentally, he began reevaluating her social threat level. Blunt and graceless she may be, but she had power of her own, and evidently the intuition to strike for vulnerability. Perhaps...perhaps a display of humility was necessary. “And yet she shielded me from harm and let me go, however little I deserved such a chance. However, Lady Elspeth is not here. If you should care to take your revenge for your alienage, she cannot protect me,” he said quietly. He knelt, head bowed. “Do with me as you will.”<br/>
<br/>
He didn’t flinch even as her sword was at her neck, forcing him to look at her as her steady eyes bore down on him. He didn’t want to die but...at least <em>she </em>might be satisfied, then.<br/>
<br/>
At least he wouldn’t cause her more pain.<br/>
<br/>
“Why, Howe?”<br/>
<br/>
Keen eyes bore into him, unmaking him. His sneering mental defense that “no truth could be found at swordpoint” melted away; she was merely giving physical reality to the truth that she was weighing his life, and wanted him to prove himself.<br/>
<br/>
Once again he swallowed his pride. “Because she gave me the chance to learn the truth, and I spit in her face. She was wounded, and I attacked her anyway. I have disgraced what little honor I thought my family name possessed, and it is fitting,” he said quietly. “I’m here that my death might mean something instead. If not through the Wardens, then through giving you the revenge Els...Lady Elspeth denied herself.”<br/>
<br/>
“And you think throwing yourself on my sword will give your death meaning? That’s what you want?”<br/>
<br/>
<em>Take me in the order. Please. </em>“I want my life to have meant anything.”<br/>
<br/>
The commander sighed, and a tense moment stretched. “Very well then, Nathaniel Howe. Welcome to the Wardens.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Arc 1: Rectify</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Elspeth learns of Nathaniel's recruitment, she's greatly affected. But emotions are just another tool in her kit, and she's more than willing to wield them to solve problems.   She approaches the queen seeking comfort from her old friend. </p><p>Meanwhile, Nathaniel adjusts to his new life in the Wardens, and the heavy past he carries with him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AN: EDIT--added the actual letter text to clear up some ambiguity.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland</em>, 30th of Matrinalis, Dragon 31.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Lady Elspeth, Heiress-apparent to the throne of Ferelden and the teyrnir of Highever,</p>
  <p>In my humble duty I must thank you for the kind and generous gift of my brother. By your grace he was returned to me, unharmed. I understand that you're aware he proved to be in possession of several alarming misconceptions on the events of this past year. I have since rectified this misunderstanding. He was most shaken, and ponders long on how best to make penance. You may hear from him shortly, but I’ll leave him to convey such words for himself. Your graciousness is a gift of the Maker.</p>
  <p>I remain your humble servant,</p>
  <p>Delilah Howe </p>
  <p> </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Elsa,</p>
  <p>Hey, just a heads up, that Nathaniel Howe ass has joined the Wardens. He claims he wants to make amends, and I think I believe him. We’ll see how he does.</p>
  <p>He asked me not to mention it to you or the teyrn, but I’ll only respect the latter. It’d be awkward to bring up if Teyrn Cousland’s still not aware the Howe came back at all. But I’m telling you so you know. I didn’t want to surprise you with him again.</p>
  <p>Hope you’re well, give Shadow extra treats for me. And please visit Nelaros in the kennels when you get back, he'll miss having attention, and I think Alistair’s too busy to give the shameless beggar as much as he wants.</p>
  <p>I miss Alistair. And I guess you too.</p>
  <p>Kally</p>
</blockquote><p><em>The Maker has a cruel sense of humor sometimes</em>, I thought faintly, feeling extremely distant from all of my limbs. Good thing, too; if I had proper control at the moment, I might twitch myself into knocking over a candle burning down the place. That probably wouldn’t go over so well with our gracious host, Bann Loren. Or worse, I might risk spilling ink all over the reports smearing my desk. Though at least either way, I wouldn’t have to stare at the letters in front of me.</p><p>So. Kallian had recruited Nathaniel. I’d known he’d resurfaced briefly, thanks to information from my contacts both honest and sly in Amaranthine. He mostly lived with Delilah, then alarmingly, disappeared.  It had been tense, waiting to hear updates on that, and nothing from Delilah herself.  I'd spread terse warnings through my guards, just in case Nathaniel decided to take me up on the obvious weakness in the oath he'd sworn.<br/><br/>At least the delay in hearing from Delilah was somewhat explained, now. My network tended to pass word much more quickly, using ravens, but apparently, Delilah had chosen to use the somewhat more reliable but far slower courier system, and had further been delayed by having addressed the letter to my private secretary, who remained in Denerim.  And the letter itself - terse, polite to a fault. A bitter reminder of all that had changed between us. <em>No help for that right now, best not to dwell.</em></p><p>As far as I could gather, the first part of the Howe problem was solved much as I had hoped.  Joining the Wardens, however, was a rather dramatic move, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. Was he doing it out of penance, or misplaced revenge?</p><p>In my memories, Nathaniel was a terrifyingly good rogue. And while manipulation wasn’t his first choice, no son of Rendon would have gone through life without at least some of the “wisdom” of his father passed down onto him. <em>Could </em>he have fooled Delilah? It was possible. She was far cleverer than her father ever gave her credit for, and certainly Nathaniel was her favored sibling, because she had simple good sense.</p><p>He's certainly sworn not to harm the Wardens, so it was probably genuine, and Kallian could handle it anyway. And joining the Wardens was - well, it was - </p><p><em>Fuck.</em> Where had that inkpot been sitting? I sanded it out as best I could and decided it was time to forcibly leave the reports for tonight.</p><p>My emotions were raging but I wasn't above using them to suit my needs. In fact, the very sincerity of them gave me exactly the key I needed for a problem that had long troubled me anyway. Plans began to form even as I hastened my steps.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Her majesty has retired for the evening, your, ah, highness?” the guard told me, stiff and uncertain, casting a wary look at his counterpart, who wisely pretended not to see and continued to resolutely scan the hallways.</p><p>I chuckled, as if amused, as if lighthearted, grin widening. I thought for a moment, switching to the cant I'd learned in the alienage, knowing it was a lower dialect he’d be comfortable with. “Dont give a fart what bloody title you use in private. Just call me Elspeth. But when yer stumped,  just get all fancy and use the full wordy title,” I drawled. “Nobles <em>love </em>it when you suck on their importance.”</p><p>His cheeks turned bright red at the crudity, though his lips were quirking, and a horror entered his eyes that he might laugh.  Even his companion's lips had twitched.  “My, ah, My Lady Elspeth, I couldn’t-”</p><p>Perhaps too strong, then. I gave him a kindly smile. “Greg, I get it, it’s a little nerve wracking knowing if the heir to the throne has the right to see the queen at such odd hours, so let me offer a piece of advice: her majesty is the queen now, and can only make decisions about what she’s <em>aware</em> of. Consider just asking her, yeah?”</p><p>“I...ah...of course, my - my, ah, lady,” he said weakly, chuckling.</p><p>He ducked into the room while I gave an amused grin at his companion guard, who was pretending not to watch me out of the corner of her eyes. “I cheated,” I explained.</p><p>“My lady?”</p><p>“Part of my duties as advisor is keeping abreast of the guard rotations. Of course I know your names, Sarah. Give me a few months, though, and I’m hoping to name you lot without needing to check the vellum.”</p><p>“Very good, my lady.”</p><p>My grin widened, and her nervousness apparently increased, but she kept to her post. Good, any guard pair needed a real straight edge. She was one to keep an eye on.</p><p>Greg returned and gestured me in, and returned my smile with a friendly one of his own. Anora was unsurprisingly scribbling notes of her own on the desk, though her hair was a least down, so I retained hope she would get to sleep on a sensible schedule.</p><p>“Your majesty, I thank you for-”</p><p>“Oh, stow it, you incorrigible woman,” Anora snapped, but turning to look at me revealed the teasing glint in her eyes. “Should I be concerned that you’re bearing gifts?”</p><p>“What, these?” I asked, raising the bottles of wine in my hands as if just remembering they were there. “Oh, right, ‘cause I’m the heiress come to usurp your place. Guess I’ll have to have the first swig, then, to prove they aren’t poisoned,” I drawled, setting one down and inelegantly popping the cork of the other.</p><p>“I didn’t say I’d be drinking too,” she protested wearily. “I’m still trying to draft a letter to Arl Bryland.”</p><p>“Fantastic! More for me than,” I agreed, taking a swig straight from the bottle, and enjoying her pained gasped a little too much.</p><p>“Is that - is that a Priorat? Give me that, you heathen!” Anora protested, snatching the bottle from my hands, though at this point her lips were quirking too obviously. “I can’t <em>believe</em> you’d waste a good Priorat like that!”</p><p>My grin widened. “Well, I mean, I did steal it from Loren’s cellar.” Anora sighed, but as I suspected, she wanted the break as much as I did, for she stood up to retrieve proper glassware, not even trying to protest anymore.</p><p>“That’s not a very kind thing to do to our host,” she chided me gently.</p><p>I snorted. “He’s not going to side with Ceorlic over a missing few bottles of wine, and anyway, it was an official requisition form! That I, you know, just wrote for myself.” Anora rolled her eyes, but had to grin. "Besides!” I continued cheerfully. “I’m using the Priorat to butter up a <em>most</em> discerning monarch. How could that possibly be a <em>waste</em>?”</p><p>She sighed. “Well, I suppose I’ve no hope of getting further with that missive,” she admitted, lips quirking again.</p><p>“Excellent decision making skills, as always,” I encouraged her cheerfully. </p><p>2 bottles later we were both lounging on our respective couches, savoring the last cups from the second bottle. Anora was a hard woman to get to unwind; mistrusting of most, and used to simply being in charge, and having her orders be obeyed. But beneath the hard exterior there was a sly and fun woman, surprisingly easy to convince into glorious adventures provided I could prove I had a solid plan. We always got along reasonably well with a couple of, well, unfortunate blips.</p><p>I rather liked Anora, sharp fangs and all, and was guiltily pleased that the Hero and Alistair had been so willing to find a compromise that kept her on the throne. Awkwardly, my support hadn’t been conditional on that, though I had made the case that she was a good ruler and a good woman if perhaps a little blinded by love of her father.</p><p>Continuity could be a good thing.</p><p>“What are you smiling about now, Elsa?” Anora drawled. She was deep enough in her drink that her posture had actually relaxed, lounging indolently against the arm of her sofa, and the sight was nearly enough to have me outright chuckling. </p><p>“Reminiscing,” I admitted candidly. “With all the shadows of the past and the complications of the future…it’s sort of nice that the present can have some islands of stability to it.”</p><p>Anora smiled faintly. “Ah, so we finally get to the hook of the evening, do we?”</p><p>My own lips quirked. Anora was an interesting case; politician to the bone, and warrior by training, her mindset was not quite warrior, not quite rogue, but straddling the two. She knew of my penchant for traps, conversational or otherwise, and delighted in catching even the most of benign ones.</p><p>“Kally recruited Nate,” I admitted in a breathed sigh.</p><p>Confusion was on her face for only a moment before it smoothed to blankness, then realization set in. “Surely you don’t mean Nathaniel Howe?” she asked carefully.</p><p>I raised my glass in the pantomime of a toast. “One and the same!”</p><p>In contrast, she set hers onto the table, her face concerned. “I’m...I’m not sure how to feel about that. Are you alright?”</p><p>I took another gulp of wine, considering my glass. “I have no idea,” I admitted honestly. “That’s about where I am, too. On one hand...good. There’s still high levels of darkspawn activity in that area, and if nothing else, Nathaniel will be useful to chuck at darkspawn as a distraction.”</p><p>“I seem to recall him having a rather higher caliber of skill than that,” she chided me faintly. “He was one of the few who could occasionally match <em>you</em> in sparring, after all.”</p><p>I waved a dismissive hand, annoyed at the flattery. In truth, I was unable to blame her for the gentle underlying reminder of who I’d once been; arrogant, and cocksure in my skills.</p><p>Rendon had cured me of that one, at least.</p><p>“Sparring is one thing, but Nathaniel was a better rogue than me when he left. Where his skills are these days...I’m not sure, but it took four Wardens to restrain him. I concede he’s likely still my superior, and yes, a powerful asset to the Wardens. I’m just being petty, all right?”</p><p>Anora chuckled. “Just so long as you’re aware,” she agreed primly, and I lobbed a cushion at her, which she easily batted aside without so much as shifting her wineglass. Her amusement faded, though, and her keen eyes took the measure of me. “On the other hand, though…?”</p><p>“Part of me is worried it’s some sort of plot,” I hedged. “Jail cell notwithstanding, I remember him as a clever man, and his various letters of the years did nothing to dissuade that impression. So he would have gathered information before even trying to break into Vigil’s Keep. And if he did that, and still...still supported his father, still hated my-” I broke off, needing a moment to control my emotions, which Anora politely ignored by drinking from her glass. “But if there’s one person in the world who could get through to him, it’s Delilah.”</p><p>“And if she didn’t?”</p><p>“Then he’s Kallian’s problem, and whatever plots he weaves, she’ll just barrel through.”</p><p>Anora chuckled faintly and inclined her head, well familiar with Kallian’s inability to be deviated from her duty for anyone or anything.</p><p>The moment of levity faded, and Anora asked the obvious question. “And if he believed her?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” I murmured. “I guess I accept it. That his slate gets wiped clean. That he becomes a hero now.”</p><p>“Grey Wardens aren’t always that heroic,” Anora pointed out.</p><p>“I know. But the Fereldens...well. Ferelden-born Wardens are somewhat popular these days.”</p><p>“So now that hateful man will rise through the ranks and be viewed as a hero,” Anora mused.</p><p>“It’s hard to cope with that,” I agreed. “Maker, some of the things he called me...and I don’t even think he regrets it. And I don’t....” I trailed off. “I don’t know if I can blame him,” I whispered.</p><p>Anora blinked, and I felt her gaze on me sharpen. “What strange irony. I used to be jealous of you, you know?” she mentioned, seemingly apropos of nothing, but I knew where she was going.</p><p>I smiled faintly, though I felt no amusement. “Even if I was stupid and cruel enough to break up a powerful and loving couple...Cailan was never my type, you know. Just friends is all we ever were, if even that much.”</p><p>“I wish I’d realized that sooner, might have saved me a few fights with a very confused man,” she agreed with a light chuckle. “And now that I’ve no expectation of monogamy from my current husband, I look at you with the utter certainty you’d never seduce him.”</p><p>“Because I’m unable, or unwilling?” I asked curiously.</p><p>“Yes,” she agreed with a smirk, and I dipped my head in acknowledgment. We’d both seen how he looked at Kallian. “So I find myself utterly baffled that you find merit in any of those spurious accusations that man flung at you. Or should I be worried?”</p><p>“Not too late to remove me from succession!” I reminded her, voice cheerful, heart still low.</p><p>She smiled faintly, but it faded. “This is about Thomas?”</p><p>I sighed. “There’s a lot of Howe blood on my hand. I don’t regret any of it, but nor can I hold his hatred against him. At the end of the day, he called me some mean names. <em>I murdered his brother</em>.”</p><p>Anora nodded slowly. “And so now you’re stuck, knowing the most likely scenario is that Nathaniel Howe becomes a hero, potentially wiping the stain of his father from history.”</p><p>I grimaced. “Does it make me petty, to feel apprehension at that?”</p><p>Anora was watching me carefully, and sighed. “I take your point,” she said finally, staring into her own glass. “Nothing will convince me to see my father the way he does but...I’ll go easier on Alistair.  Cruelty <em>is</em> beneath me.”</p><p>I stilled. “I hadn’t accused-”</p><p>“It’s what you were building towards, was it not?” Anora asked, amused, which broke in and dragged a chuckle out of me; this is what I got for underestimating her. “I’m surprised at you, though. Using your own genuine feelings as leverage, here? On this?” She smiled, faintly. "Is my relationship with my husband really so important to you?"</p><p>I smiled faintly. “A Cousland always does her duty, and right now, my duty is to the kingdom of Ferelden. I believe you and Alistair have every chance of being the best rulers Ferelden has ever seen. But you will rule much better when you rule together, and not in spite of each other. Beneath the powerful queen and accomplished politician, you’re still Anora, and still my friend. I figured you’d have more empathy for me than your husband.”</p><p>“Well now,” she responded, looking perturbed. “How very rude of you, to cut so keenly. I hate that I can’t deny that.” </p><p>“Well, you cut off my game so quickly, I feel we’re even on the rude front.”</p><p>“Elsa, my dear, I’m afraid I don’t have time to wait for your careful progress towards correcting my behavior. I’m a queen now, in name and in truth.”</p><p>I grinned. “Is that a dismissal, then? Too busy to indulge your old friend further?”</p><p>“Were you always so greedy? I know you have another Priorat there.”</p><p>I laughed openly, then, and obligingly pulled it out.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em>Nathaniel Howe</em> 13th of Umbralis, Dragon 31</p><p>He sighed, staring at the ring forlornly. All he had left, the last thing she had touched. Before wishing never to see him again.</p><p>He was such a fool.</p><p>“Just write to her, Nathaniel,” the commander’s dry voice cut in from behind him.</p><p>“My sister and I keep in regular contact,” he replied smoothly, tucking the ring away discreetly. Warden Commander Tabris’s distinctive gait was easily recognizable, and he’d heard her coming past, but hoped she’d move on. Evidently he wasn’t so lucky.</p><p>“Uh huh,” Tabris said, her face distinctly unimpressed when he turned to greet her. “Look, I know you rogues like to play your games and have all this doublespeak mabari farts, and that I’m supposed to drop everything and lightly tiptoe around your stupid dances, but I’m officially passed the point of caring.” Nathaniel opened his mouth to protest, but her eyes keenly tore right through him. “Your moping is beginning to affect your combat efficiency. <em>Write to Elsa</em>.”</p><p>In the face of her presence, of her fearsome glare, greater men than Nathaniel would wilt. He looked away first, frowning. “You can’t order that,” he clung to.</p><p>She snorted. “No, I can’t. That’s my advice. I’m trying to help you <em>get your head out of your ass.</em>” She shook her head. “Because that’s the best solution I have against what I can order--I’ll have to start leaving you behind.”</p><p>The threat of his being useless was far more effective than it should have been. “And writing to Lady Elspeth will belay that?” he demanded.</p><p>“No,” she said sharply. “I’m not doing this. Elsa pulled the same damn bullshit with me, you think I’m not wise to it? This isn’t a rules thing, Nathaniel,” she said, stepping in uninvited and taking a seat. “I’m worried about you.”</p><p>“Worried for a Howe?” he demanded with a snort. “I don’t need your pity, Commander. I’m fine.”</p><p>“You’re really not,” she said quietly. “And of the innumerable reasons you have, I can guess why. I know you were just looking at that ring again. <em>Her </em>ring.”</p><p>“I-I didn’t steal it. She tossed it to me should I need extra funds,” he replied tightly. “I made do without for the time being, but should I need to sell it, the option remains close at hand. I was just considering whether to do so.”</p><p>She scoffed. “You, sell that? Don’t try to hook me on that crap, Howe. You’re always staring at it with the saddest eyes when you think no one can see.”</p><p>He didn’t let his expression betray him. “Stabbing wildly in the dark hoping to find a mark, commander? You’ll have to do better than that if you want a rise out of me.”</p><p>“Speaking of darkness, you realize elf eyes are better at seeing in the dark than human ones, right? Not to mention the perks Wardens get, especially the longer they’ve had the Taint.”</p><p>Damnation. Life in Starkhaven court hadn’t exactly had him rubbing elbows with many elves, but he should have guessed as much based on how often they were scouts in armies.</p><p>She sighed, seeing he wouldn’t say more. “What was your relationship with Els…Lady Elspeth?”</p><p>“She was the teyrn of Highever’s daughter, and I the son of an arl sworn to him. Then some things happened between Howes and Couslands I believe you’re aware of.”</p><p>“Nathaniel-”</p><p>“You can’t order me to trade information on any of my relationships, <em>commander</em>,” he bit out in anger, before reeling it in. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable for her to be concerned. “If you’re worried about retaliation from her, <em>don’t</em>. She washed her hands of my entire ordeal and wished to never see me again. I mean <em>nothing </em>to her.”</p><p>“Horseshit. She was in my office <em>sobbing</em> after she let you out!”</p><p>Sound and color faded from the world briefly as he felt his soul sink into the floor. His face was far too betrayed to pretend anything else. “Oh,” he breathed, his voice so quiet to his ears.</p><p>Her voice was soft as she continued. “I share some of the blame, I’ll cop to that. I was trying to protect her, ended up surprising her, and I’m not sure which she hates more. That’s on me. But whatever you said to her...it hurt her deeply. I’ve never seen nasty words break her like that. I doubt I need to tell you how much I want to <em>eviscerate </em>the man that managed such a feat.”</p><p>“You still have the chance,” he replied dully.</p><p>“Maker save me from more deathseekers,” she muttered. “You’re not afraid to die, but you’re afraid to apologize?” Nathaniel kept his mouth shut, he refused to be easy bait in this. She shook her head, sighing. “I thought this obvious, but you blunted that instinct. I have a bit of a weakness for the dutiful types, and frankly I needed all the help I can get. You’ve earned your place here, whatever your past screw ups. But I can’t pretend you didn't leave some scars that needs fixing. She’s...my best friend, you know? And according to her, you once were hers.” He swallowed, then, a sudden lump in his throat. She’d said that? “So yes. I know she gave you that ring. I'll ask her about it if I have to but she gets irritated when I write about you-”</p><p>He stilled. “You said you wouldn’t tell her I’d joined.”</p><p>Kallian sighed. “I said that, yes, but then I realized I’d be repeating a mistake, and that’s probably the thing Elspeth hates most. So yes. I wrote to Elspeth. She knows you work for me, now.”</p><p>He stilled. Questions surged, but he wouldn’t be baited into asking them. But her lips twitched, and his temper flared. “What do you want from me, commander? To taunt me, to amuse yourself for my expense? Such cruelty is unlike you.”</p><p>“Maker, and she claims warriors are the stubborn ones. What is it with rogues?” she muttered, apparently to herself. “I’m trying to help you, Nathaniel. Because like it or not, you need it.”</p><p>“You’re trying to satisfy your curiosity,” he snapped back.</p><p>“Yes!” she openly admitted, her voice a muted yell. “Because you’re acting like a Maker forsaken loon about this, and I need to know why! I’m not saying it wouldn’t be hard but do you seriously not know how generously Elspeth forgives?”</p><p>“That’s a <em>lie</em>,” he snarled, temper in shreds that this woman claiming to be Elspeth’s best friend didn’t even understand this truth. “She pretends at forgiveness, because it’s the polite thing to do. It’s what a good person does, and she so desperately wants to be that. So she continues to smile and act as though such wounds left no mark. But she’ll never forget what I said to her. Another Howe betrayal on the pile that Cousland has had to endure. To ask forgiveness would just be to force her to hurt more just so I can claim some measure of peace. By what right do I ask that of her?” he demanded rhetorically. She stared at him with wide eyes, and he cursed his temper, realizing how badly he’d overstepped once again. He slumped in his chair, refusing to meet her eyes anymore. “Consider it the last gasp of grace in me. I’ve hurt her enough for one lifetime. Better for her that she just...forgets I exist.”</p><p>“And for you?” she asked quietly. “Don’t you want to...at least try to repair what was lost?”</p><p>The question tore at the heart of him, and he couldn’t even look in his commander’s direction. <em>More than anything in the world.</em> “Penance has a price,” he whispered. “I owe no less.”</p><p>“Nathaniel-”</p><p>“I thank you for the warning about my effectiveness. I will work to remedy this. In the meantime, please make decisions as you feel appropriate. I serve at your command.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Arc 1: Letters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shaken by his commander's words, Nathaniel attempts the unthinkable: emotional vulnerability.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe, </em>13th and 14th of Umbralis, Dragon 31</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth Cousland, Heiress of Highever, Heiress to the Throne, Advisor to the Throne</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Nathaniel grimaced, scratching the line out. He had vivid recollections that Elspeth rather hated high formal. Considering what lay between them, he doubted she'd give him any benefit of doubt, and might misinterpret the inclusion of her more flowery titles as mockery. He considered just scrapping the entire sheet, but frankly, he was likely to have several more mistakes than that. Might as well continue using this vellum as scratch for his rough draft. </p><p>He glared at the remainder of the ale he’d failed to finish, blaming that for his difficulties. His talk with the commander had...rather shaken him more than he might have expected. Seeking distraction, or at least numbness, he’d agreed to drinking a few rounds with Oghren. Nathaniel would rarely drink to the point of drunkenness, having always disliked seeing its effect on his younger brother.  But he’d gotten rather closer than he liked, tonight, which was the only excuse for why he’d let the commander’s words worm into his heart.</p><p>
  <em> Just apologize, Nathaniel. </em>
</p><p>As if that would be enough. As if anything he could do would make things better.  Curse heroes and their idealism; he’d been fine with things as they stood. He knew his place. Lady Elspeth had made her feelings quite clear; she’d never wanted to interact with him again. Why was he prodding this? </p><p>But hope was a stubborn thing, and so he found himself staring at the vellum once more, glaring at it and wishing it would just hurry up and solve his problems, rather than mocking him.</p><p>This shouldn’t be so difficult.  Not a few years ago they were writing letters every few months; he’d eagerly await her next one. He could still recall his former knight master’s stiff smiles, when a letter came; the man was a notorious stoic, but handing Nathaniel a letter from Elspeth seemed to crack that grim façade.  And when Nathaniel would read them, he’d pore over the letter, save it in his letter box with the others, and write her back almost immediately.  He’d wait to send it, of course--there was no sense in being so eager, and more news might happen in the meantime--but she’d always been so easy to write to. </p><p>How had he used to do it?</p><p>He glanced at his letter box on the desk; his knight master had sent it over with most of his affects not long ago. It clawed and beckoned him, enticing him to remember better times. A record of all the correspondence he'd once shared with her. </p><p>A reminder of all he had lost.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Dear Kitten, </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He scratched that one out with due haste, considered, and just upended ink all over the word so he didn’t have to look at it, didn’t have proof of how foolish he was, even more a moment.</p><p>Nathaniel normally considered himself a reasonably clever person, but his mistakes of late had made him seriously question that analysis. It didn’t take a genius to realize that was a nickname he was no longer allowed.  </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Elsa, </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He hesitated a moment longer on that one, but only a moment.  </p><p>Nicknames were for friends. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>It seemed wrong--so empty and generic--but it would have to do. He couldn’t claim special privilege with her anyway.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I hope this letter finds you in good health.  Are you well these days? How is your partner Shadow? I’ve heard much of your mabari's exploits even beyond your past letters; I confess, I had hoped to meet her some day. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>“I have all the subtlety of a whining mabari,” Nathaniel growled.  Next.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I hope this letter finds you in good health.  Are you well these days? Is Shadow? I try to keep up with news of Court, but word is slow to reach us, and Kallian is rather blithe in sharing information.  I gather she told you I’ve joined the Wardens now.  </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He sighed, considering Elspeth reading the letter, tapping his quill.  </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth,    </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em>   I’m sure you’re tempted to burn this letter, but </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>But what?</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>but I’m writing on Kallian’s orders.   </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Bit of a stretch, that, but it would do.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth,  </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I’m sure you’re tempted to burn this, but I’m writing on Kallian’s orders. Are you in good health?  </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Nathaniel sighed, considering, leaning back.  Wax was dripping from his candle; it had been nearly half an hour, and he’d not even managed a single line. </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I’m sure it’s a surprise to get a letter from me; if you burn this, I could scarcely blame you. Kallian “requested” I write to you;  </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>No.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I’m sorry.  I said horrible, vile things that you didn’t deserve, and I’m sorry.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Blast it all, did he have to sound so pathetic? No.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> I know you wished to never see me again, but I ask your indulgence all the same. I owe you a debt, I cannot leave this unresolved. Burn it if you must, Maker knows I deserve that and more, but you at least deserve an explanation. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Before anything else, I must thank you. You were right about Delilah, and I wish I had talked to her before any of this happened.  It would have saved me a lot of agony. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I have much to apologize for, and much that I owe you. I have wronged you, all because of my stupidity.  </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I knew so little of what was happening in Ferelden; Starkhaven was slow to receive word. We’d heard a few rumors of my father--rumors I was sure, at first, had to be a lie. I didn’t want to contemplate castle Cousland falling. I left my knight master’s service immediately, wishing to spare him the shame. Without much to my name or connections to rely on, I slowly made my way south, sheltering in Kirkwall and desperately trying to get word.  Word found me; I received a letter from Marcella, my father’s cousin. When I came back to Ferelden, Lady Marcella took me in, sheltering me. It wasn’t until later I learned that she’d been sheltering me from the truth. My anger against the Wardens she stoked, and loosed me like an arrow, ready to murder the hero of Ferelden. I was captured, of course. She sent word again, convincing me</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Nathaniel paused, hesitating.  He pictured Elspeth reading the letter, her face growing more furious. <em> “Oh, so not only is he an easily manipulated idiot, he’s not willing to take any sort of responsibility for his actions? Just blame it all on another. Pah. No more than an untrained dog, just as I thought. </em>”</p><p>He sighed, crossing out the last paragraph.  </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> I have wronged you, all because of my foolishness. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I have no justification for this. You called me a moron--many more things than that, really--each one of them fair. I should have looked harder. I should have searched deeper. I was so desperate to assume that my father hadn’t done such a thing--that there’d been some sort of conspiracy to make him look bad, that being a loser in a war meant the other side had tarnished him. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> It didn’t even occur to me that the slander could be true. Father always spoke so highly of the Couslands</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>“Ah, but, he was always a soft touch.”</p><p>“Teyrn Cousland has rather...unconventional tastes in women; the teyrna is rather unique.”</p><p>“Teyrn Cousland is of the noble opinion that leadership should demonstrate good actions and people will follow; he’s a rather optimistic idealist, in this, occasionally unwilling to contemplate the harsher realities of the world.”</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> It didn’t even occur to me that the slander could be true. But I never really knew father, did I?  Delilah chided me about that so severely.  Looking back, now, I wonder at my fate if I had ever listened to you and her.  I thought you two were just self conscious before him; flighty girls too emotional to take the hard truths he wanted you to learn. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Now I wonder why you didn’t just tar and feather me every time I tried to tell you that. You were always more patient with me than I deserved, and now I find myself hoping, against all odds, that that remains true.   </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Because the truth is, I have nothing to offer you. I gave you insults, you gave me grace. From the moment I saw you, I gave you no faith, yet you refused to bend, giving me chance after chance</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Nathaniel hesitated. He could picture her face, grimacing in disgust.  <em> “Ugh, now I have to read awkward, overwrought praises from him. Does he really think flattery will buy my forgiveness?”  </em></p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Because the truth is, I have nothing to offer you. And when I contemplate that, I feel as though I’m drowning. I always thought of myself as above despair--mistakes must be rectified, no matter how vast the task may seem. But that’s not entirely true, is it?  When I broke into Vigil’s Keep, I’d presumed I’d simply die on the Hero’s blade. I told myself it was the strongest message I could send, the best I could accomplish. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> But in truth, I was just running away. Like a coward. Unable to face the enormity of how hated the Howes were. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I’ve joined the Wardens now, in part to pay back the debt my family owes to Amaranthine, that my father owes to Commander Tabris, personally. My father’s actions blighted this land, blackened our family name; destroyed so many lives; his sins are beyond counting. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Is it selfish, then, that I find it easier to take on that burden than the foolish hope of earning your forgiveness? </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I realize a part of it, of course; I can always console myself that my father’s actions were not my own. That I, myself, didn’t conspire to betray our liege lord and slaughter your household, to sell Fereldens into slavery. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> But how can I face you, when what lies between us is my fault, and mine alone? I dug a chasm between us so vast it pains me to contemplate. I can do nothing but stare into that abyss and despair. I hurt you. I hurt you beyond all hope of salvaging and if I could repay that in blood I’d </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Shaking, Nathaniel broke off. This was not helpful. Black moods were rarer, these days; finding purpose in the Wardens had rarely given him time to sink so low as to want to take the ultimate escape again.  But he was not free of that entirely, and his inebriated state certainly wasn't helping. He’d spoken with the commander of it, and in this, her advice had proven helpful.  </p><p>“Don’t indulge it, Nathaniel, no matter how tempting it is. Oh, sure, there’s a use in letting yourself feel all that despair and sadness. You’ve earned that much. But when that mood turns dark, and you contemplate serious actions--stop it. I mean it. That’s it. Just stop it. That’s an order, if I have to make it. It doesn’t help, it just makes you think things are more hopeless than they are. No more thoughts like that, ok? That’s--that’s an order.”</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> I dug a chasm between us so vast it pains me to contemplate. I would do anything to bridge it. I mean it.   </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> But, even as I write that, another dread fills me. I think you forgive too easily, and bury the wounds inside. And even the thought that you might do that for my sake burns me to my core. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you more.  </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> But I don’t want our last words to be the final word between us. I know you don’t wish to see me ever again, but, I want to hold onto the hope. That maybe one day, I’ll have done enough to earn just a fraction of your forgiveness. That you’ll want to see me again, even if just to offer your scorn. If it takes months, years, decades, I will press forward.   </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Just, tell me there’s hope. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Lie, if you have to. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Please. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> I’m sorry. </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em> Ever yours, </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Nathaniel Howe </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Was it enough? He didn’t know. He’d consider it in the morning. Setting out to try, he blew out his candle, and went to bed.</p><hr/><p>Morning light streamed through his drapes, an assault on his senses. <em> Maker. </em>  Nathaniel rubbed his nose, exasperated, trying to fight off the rising headache.  How much had he had to drink last night?  </p><p>He saw the letter, still sitting on its nightstand, and a surge of fear and nerves coursed through him. Was this it--did he have hope after all?  Taking a moment to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, Nathaniel groped for the letter, quickly reading it, with steadily growing dismay.</p><p>The letter was awful.  He was <em> mortified </em> he had written it--a bare, beating heart of naked, <em> overwrought </em> emotions and pain. Who could respect a man who wrote <em> this? </em></p><p>Besides.  He had no right to ask anything of her, and yet he ended the letter begging her all the same.</p><p>No, no. This would not do.  </p><p>With quiet and dignified grace, he folded the letter, lit the candle, and slowly fed it to its flame, ensuring not a piece was unburned.</p><p>Lady Elspeth had wished to never spend a moment in his company again; that easily included letters. The least he could do was respect her one request. </p><p>And when it was done, he brushed away the ashes, and stood up, ready to face the next day.  </p><p>He had chosen his path. He would not flinch now. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Arc 1: Siege</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><em> Elspeth Cousland, </em>  2nd of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>The Bannorn was eventually settled, with clever politicking on the Queen's part, and heartfelt sincerity on the King's.  With gratitude we returned to the capital in time for Winter, catching up on whatever affairs had managed to languish in their absence from the center of power.  And while I couldn't deny the twinges of boredom working in the capital, buried under paperwork night after night, there was a satisfaction in being able to receive such rapid news about the progress of all the kingdom. I was at the heart of my rapidly growing web, and that had a much needed calming effect on my nerves. Highever was rebuilding, thank the Maker, and while Fergus was unsubtle in his chides via letter, neither had he attempted to outright compel my presence.  Amaranthine was slowly regaining its footing; Kallian sent us periodic updates, and whenever she had the slightest hint of uncertainty I was delighted to draft long messages of helpful resources I convinced myself she studiously read.  Arl Eamon was a wise and steadfast presence, and we worked well together. Naturally, Eamon was the senior of us two, being older, wiser, and widely respected.  I rarely had cause to diverge from his suggestions, but then, he rarely rejected my objections out of hand. </p><p>Even more happily, Anora and Alistair were beginning to find their feet together in their own right; a powerful couple I was pleased to witness developing.  Alistair's first love would always be Kallian, of course, but I was happy their respect for each other had grown.  They were learning, if slowly, to work with each other's quirks, rather than in spite of them. On occasion, when they let their guard down, I could catch glimpses of a genuine fondness as well.<br/><br/>I was less than pleased with the attention I was beginning to receive by the eligible bachelors of the kingdom, but little surprise there.  It'd been much the same before the fall of the Couslands. Yet <em>shockingly,</em> such attention had all but evaporated when our power and standing had done likewise.  Even as I'd slowly revealed myself to more and more trustworthy nobles in the days approaching the Landsmeet, none had shown quite the <em>interest</em> they suddenly, <em>magically</em> developed now that I was heiress.</p><p>Fantastic.<br/><br/>The only arguable exception to this was Bann Teagan, who'd been unfailingly courteous and rakishly flirtatious before, during, and after. But that was just Teagan; I couldn't think of a single noblewoman who hadn't at some point described him as "charming." I was fairly certain there was no intent behind his mild pursuit; it was simply his natural interaction with any women, and with his brother the other advisor to the crown, we had much reason to bump into each other these days.</p><p>Besides, Teagan was too old for me.</p><p>I loved people, in general, whether they had purposes cross with my own or not. Everyone had a unique story to them, a bit of chaos to bring to the world and shake things up. And the more I understood those around me, the happier I felt. But the combination of feeling like I could quite live up to who I needed to be, alongside interacting with nobles and their inescapably political maneuvering paired with overt and relentless flirting was draining even to me. And while I use to settle such frustrations through friendly brawling, Anora had made it Quite Clear she did not approve of me challenging nobles to fisticuffs and ultimately embarrassing them, so I had to seek other refuge. </p><p>Having no excuse to roam and meet new people, or practice my skills was like an itch under my skin I couldn't ignore. Static targets were less appealing than monsters, but it was better than nothing, and had the added advantage of getting me away from the castle for brief respites. Few thought to look for me outside the castle at some of the long range training yards, and those that did often didn't recognize me out of courtly attire and in more casual gear. The fact that winter had barely ended, its cold shadow still gripping Denerim, made this all the sweeter. When spring reared stronger and the yards warmed up, I had little doubt my refuge would soon be discovered.</p><p>Nock, Dip, Draw, Release.  A form and a Chant, my own special - though not unique - prayer.   It was rather basic, as archer prayers went, but all the more widespread for it.  Besides, I didn’t need the commands so much as the centering. It was easy for me to get distracted; archery was one of the few disciplines that helped hone my focus. All that was not real, concerns, worries, responsibilities, all faded; only the physical world remained.  The bend of the arrow shaft. The sound of my bow’s creak. The wind, the ground, the feathers on my lips, the target in sight. I let fly, and my soul rose with it. Nock, dip, draw, release.  8 arrows, 8 targets. I smiled in satisfaction, taking a moment to admire the success. Not at all because I was petty and was annoyed to be interrupted, pretending not to realize Alistair had come to watch, and wanted my attention.  Nock, dip -</p><p>“Did you get them?”</p><p>I breathed a sigh, chiding myself for my annoyance.  I served my king, not the other way around.  While I desperately needed - well, <em> wanted  - </em>to be apart from demands of the kingdom for but a moment, I had to remember that he of all people would not seek me out frivolously.  </p><p>“I am honored by your attention, your majesty. But you have better eyes than I do, don’t you?” I pointed out, turning to greet him.  </p><p>“I’m much more used to picking out darkspawn guts then tiny little arrows,” he defended. “Besides, overcast's all bright and it’s making me all squinty.  You’re all adjusted by now.”</p><p>We were a short walk from the castle, so he must have hurried out here for his eyes to not have adjusted yet. That was...concerning. But if he was unwilling to get right to his point, neither would I force it. </p><p>I chuckled.  “Well, yes, I hit my targets, sire.”</p><p>He gave a low whistle. “That’s quite the range. And all on their mark?  I don’t think even Bradley was that good of a shot. No wonder Duncan wanted to recruit you.”</p><p>A tremble hit me, which I ruthlessly suppressed. <em>He meant it as a compliment, </em> I strove to remind myself.  <em> He’s trying to be friendly.  Which, coming from Alistair, means something’s up. Something </em> big. <em>He’s too tense with nervous energy. This bodes ill, and means I must not fall apart. </em>I forced a smile and pleasant expression.  “You’re too kind, your majesty, but I’m not made of Warden material.  It was Duncan’s wisdom that he saw that right away, and recruited only Kallian.” </p><p>His face blanched, then, looking horrified, apparently remembering <em> why </em> Duncan had chosen, at the last moment, to only recruit my newest guard and not me.  Pity filled his eyes, and his voice became wrought with emotion, stammering and regretful.  “Oh - Elsa, I’m-”</p><p>“Your majesty, I am at your service,” I said crisply, bowing.  “Is there something I can do for you?” <em>Get. To the point. Your attempt at buttering up your targets needs work.</em></p><p>“I...uh...well...there’s this letter, see.  Kallian sent it,” he began, waving a tiny scrap of paper.  </p><p>My eyes widened. “Shit. Barrowsnipe? Why didn’t you start with that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. Why was I chiding the <em>king?</em> Father would be so disappointed in my lack of respect.</p><p>“I uh - maybe?”  He asked, looking at the letter, then back at me. “Does it make a difference?”  </p><p>Right, I was a fool, Alistair was...somewhat unfamiliar with minor details that came part and parcel with being born into this. “Barrowsnipe is the fastest of all messenger birds. But they’re as tiny as they are rare, so the messages must be as well - they're used almost exclusively in an emergency," My fists clenched. “What happened, sire?” </p><p>His face hardened. “I knew it. Anora said I shouldn’t worry too much but - Elsa, Kallian’s asking for help. Needs reinforcements. I want to drop everything, but, but my wife said-”</p><p>“-that the bulk the royal army is still on leave and those that remain are the very bare minimum we can afford to leave in the capital,” I groaned, rapidly stashing my bow and making a straight line back to the castle. Pieces were all too clearly falling into place; I knew who I was working for, after all. “So Anora thinks wait.  And when you said you’d go alone- because of course you did - she objected, given that big oathbound gesture to the nobles of “I’ve left the Wardens, their order no longer commands me, Ferelden is my first priority-”</p><p>“She was furious at the thought I’d go running at the first sign of trouble,” Alistair agreed with a grunt, turning to match pace with me. “But - it’s Kallian.  She wouldn’t ask for help for no reason. She didn’t even ask for help when she was knee deep in the guts of three ogres.  So you’ll help convince my wife to see reason?”</p><p>I hummed. “Alistair, her majesty has a point, you know-”</p><p>“Bloody unbelievable!” Alistair cursed, jovial tone evaporated, cold anger covering his face without reserve.  He stopped to glare at me.  “I thought you - you, of all people would side with me on this!”</p><p>I reigned in my temper, knowing it inappropriate, and gave him a calm look. “So you’ve already gone to Eamon with this, have you?” I asked instead.</p><p>He sputtered, as if caught. “Well, yes.  He was there too.  I thought the armies of Redcliffe - but the roads are still icy and unpassable that far south.”</p><p>“Good, then he’s up to speed.”  I turned to move again, and after a moment, Alistair followed.  “The only armies that could make it in time are in the north.”</p><p>“So it <em>has</em> to be the Royal Army,” Alistair pointed out.  “Look - this isn’t selfishness, and it isn’t just a Warden thing.  The <em> Hero of Ferelden </em> just wrote asking for help.  That’s a darkspawn threat big enough to swallow us all.  You <em> know </em> I’m right!”</p><p>“I do,” I agreed, turning to face him, since apparently we were just going to do this conversation right out in the open. Shamefully, irritation was mounting in my expression, my temper surging underneath calm lakes. “And Queen Anora, and I assume Eamon, are right - we <em> can’t </em> muster the Royal Army, and your oaths to the nobles, broken immediately, would plunge Ferelden back into a civil war it cannot recover from.”</p><p>He opened his mouth to object, but hesitated.  Bitterness were plainly obvious in his expression and tone. “So, what, then, I’m just to do nothing?”</p><p>I almost immediately boxed his ear, but training gripped me, and I took a calming breath. <em>This is a moment. Wrench it.</em> “Alistair. Do you <em> want </em> to be king?” </p><p>“I-”</p><p>“Because a king means sometimes you have to put the needs of your country above your personal needs.”</p><p>“I…” he trailed off. “I’ve never been very good at that,” he forced out in acknowledgement. “Always was rather selfish. You know I’m not...I’m not the stuff kings are made of. Maybe-”</p><p>Well, this was taking a turn I didn’t hope for. “And in the time since you’ve been king, you’ve already ensured that the common folk don’t immediately get stomped by their liegelords when it comes to food distribution, you’ve ensured reforms for those most desperately in need of them, such as the mages and alienage elves.”  His eyes lifted to meet mine, confused, and I gave him what I hoped was a kind smile. “Everywhere I look, I’ve seen a king who fights for the downtrodden, those without power or voice. Those that my kind have long since gotten used to ignoring.  You’ve given a spine to the back of all who would take up a sword and fight with no more training than you’d get in a stable.  I used to think I was good, but you - you care so much for the common people I am humbled and ashamed by the good you’ve done in <em> one year</em>.”   </p><p>He met my eyes then, surprised, and I stared back, holding the moment. When I spoke, the pride and kindness I truly felt filled my voice. “I know why I backed you, my king, and I haven’t changed in that. But I know also that I can’t serve a king who doesn’t want it.”</p><p>He broke first, looking away, ashamed but frustrated. “That’s not fair. You can’t just ask me to ignore people who need help.”</p><p>“My king…” I sighed, and put a hand on his shoulder. It was a breach of protocol, but it was a camaraderie I knew he’d be more familiar with. “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to start realizing you mean more than just yourself now.  You’ve the whole country looking to you. Alistair the king must have different priorities than Alistair the man.”</p><p>“I can’t just…sit on the sidelines when people need help,” Alistair insisted quietly. “<em>Please </em> don’t ask me to.”</p><p>“I’m not asking that, my king. I’m asking that you consider that there are <em> many </em> needs you must see to at this time, and to be more thoughtful about which ones take precedence,” I pushed, and as his face fell further, I knew I could press it no more. “I’m not asking, however, that nothing <em> be </em> done, or that we all be so powerless.”</p><p>He blinked, staring up at me again, cautious hope lighting in his eyes.  “What do you mean?”</p><p>My lips quirked. “I can explain on the way. Can we move again, your majesty? Time’s of the essence, here.”</p><p>“Where are we going? And you remember <em> I’m </em> the king, right?”</p><p>Despite my tension, something about that wrested a chuckle from me.  It would have been a good chide - if I believed Alistair cared for a moment. And if he was going to go ahead and tease me... “And you wasted precious minutes <em> bantering </em> with me to soften me up after having already gone to Queen Anora and Eamon first. If it weren’t so impolite to leave you behind, I would be <em> all out running </em> to the rookery right now.”</p><p>He considered, then grinned, all fierce determination. “Think you’d leave me behind?  I’ll <em> race </em> you.”</p><p>It would be so inappropriate but - I matched his expression.  “Your majesty, you’re <em> on. </em>”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There was only one real solution, of course.  Highever was rebuilding its army, and up in the north, I already knew they had begun field exercises.  The plan was simplicity itself; I would take a small but rapid cavalry company and head to Amaranthine to help reinforce them, and my dear brother was welcome to join me with his army if he saw fit, as I informed him via barrowsnipe. </p><p>I didn't really think he'd turn down the opportunity to help, but I wasn't willing to chance him hesitating about how rapidly he should deploy to save a land that birthed a monster like Howe.  He wouldn't thank me for twisting his arm to move as rapidly as possible, but I could deal with the regrets and chides later, when the danger had passed.<br/> <br/>It was a tense journey, and anxieties plagued me more than I cared to admit.  Shadow my mabari partner trotted at my side, anchor in a storm as she usually was.  Ronan, my mount, was rather uneasy at the tension his rider carried, but he was steady and well trained.  On the human side, I was desperately grateful for the presence of Captain Hye, who’d volunteered to accompany me; a steadying rock as I pressed towards doom. <br/><br/>My brother, true Cousland through and through, met us enroute, and though there was joy in seeing him again, and more than a little chiding, we wasted little time in pressing onwards, the new Highever army making a hard pace. Greenies and more than a few mercenary companies, with a core of veterans within, and flush with bravery to the last one.  They came at Fergus’s call to rescue a countryside more than one bitterly resented.  </p><p>I was so proud of the Highever army.  And so terrified all the same.</p><p>But what did fear matter?  I’d come out the other end of the abyss again and again.  <em> Bravery doesn’t mean having no fear, pup, it means facing your fear. </em>   Yes, thank you, father.  <em> A Cousland must always be brave. And a Cousland </em> always <em> does their duty. </em>   I <em>know</em>, father.  I won't fail you.</p><p>Again.</p><p>Fear was an emotion like any other. Fear had no place. Fear needed to be set aside, until the battle was won. I was not without skills. I could do this. I would do this, because I could never look myself in a mirror again if I didn’t give it my all; Highever had rallied to save Vigil's Keep, and I wouldn’t dare risk their lives with anything less than the best I had to offer. </p><p>My grip tightened on the rein. I could do this. I <em>would</em> do this.  </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>As Vigil’s Keep came into view, it was clear that the situation was grim. A darkspawn army was surrounding the accessible walls of the castle, with smoke and fires betraying its sorry state.  But activity suggested they were still fighting, which gave us hope.  Fergus gave the order, having our our army mages cast a small spell to refresh our horses as best as possible.  We needed every edge we could extract, here; the sorry state of the castle walls and the wrenched open gate were far worse than I hoped to see, but all was not lost yet.</p><p><em>This is Kallian. She’d never fall to darkspawn,</em> I reminded myself. <em>Probably just busy seeing how many she can skewer at once on the same sword. Kallian’s going to be there. It’s going to be fine! </em></p><p>“Do you have to be in the first charge with us?” Fergus muttered, sidling up next to me as the mages quickly made their rounds. “You’re an archer, you could stay back with the lines.”</p><p>“Bow or not, I can still kick <em> your </em> ass any day, Ferg,” I reminded him, nearby soldiers chuckling at the confidence I faked.</p><p>“Because you’d cheat,” he protested, miffed, though his lips were quirking.  </p><p>I grinned back. “Exactly. Now let me go where I can do the most good.”</p><p>He gave me a skeptical look. “Good? No. <em>Chaos</em>. Chaos is the word you’re looking for.”</p><p>I laughed, a forced gesture, but one that I could see buoyed those near us. “Well. You’re not <em>wrong</em>.”</p><p>“Speech?”</p><p>“It’s your army,” I demurred. “But try something new: Brevity.”  </p><p>He rolled his eyes and flipped me off, but clicked his horse forward. He paced up and down the lines and giving a speech I could barely pay attention to, not in the face of trying to get a sense for what was happening. Rah rah honor and glory, rah rah duty, noble soldiers of Highever, undaunted, unbowed.  Rah rah<em> go throw yourself into a tainted meat grinder. </em></p><p>And soon, so soon came his signal. With a roar, we charged. We rode down the hill, a thunderous racket, slamming into the unprepared flanks of the darkspawn horde. I had Ronan rear, slamming a hurlock in the chest, while Shadow took the arm of one next to me with a savage snarl.  I gripped the saddle, waiting for the right moment to knowing that with Ronan’s mass and armor, I was for the moment more useful as a rider than a fighter.  We churned through the darkspawn, causing chaos wherever possible as we made our way into the line. I could see the chaos inside the keep, and the brave defense of the Wardens. </p><p>“The defenders are buckling!”  Hye shouted.  </p><p>I pitched my voice, a neat projection trick I’d learned long ago, meant to encourage and inspire.  “Not for long!” I yelled, and got a roar in response.</p><p>Fergus, Hye and I formed the point of a wedge, charging forward.   Ahead, we saw the darkspawn mages respond, tuning to face us, and here, finally, I found my target.  My bow was in my hands before thought had traced it.  <em> Knock, Dip, Draw, Release </em>. Three arrows shot, three mage throats taken.   I smiled grimly, pleased; usually the mages were quick enough to burn the arrows in flight, but these had been slow to react.  </p><p>We annihilated all who tried to stop up as we gained ground.  Somehow a moment parted in the battlefield, and through the castle entrance I saw Nathaniel Howe (<em> what? </em> !) stumble backwards, massive alpha looming over him. <em> Shit. </em> I drew back hard, knowing I had the range and shot it, landing the first in his exposed armpit and the second in his throat when he reared.  One threat down, but he was still surrounded, clearly not getting up - <em>Makermakermaker no, not Nathaniel!  </em>- I had to stop this. Ice bomb flasks arced in succession, creating a sudden narrow window and brittle pathway through the horde. I spurred Ronan forward, thundering through an opening to enter the keep, barely hearing Fergus screaming after me.  Through the gap I charged, and a moment later I realized the ridiculously brave guard captain had followed with me.  </p><p>“My lady-” Hye began, objections clear in her voice.</p><p>“If <em> any </em>Warden falls, many follow,” I snarled, mind finally providing reason for my panic. “These defenders are losing morale. I’ll patch him - find the seneschal.  Make sure they know help has arrived!”</p><p>Understanding flashed in her eyes, and Hye nodded, wheeling her horse around with expert grace I could only envy. I pushed forward to the fucking Howe, still fighting from the ground, mobbed by a frenzied pack who thought their foe beaten.  We tore into them; Ronan rearing, powerful hooves striking the chest of the genlock nearest Nathaniel, and Shadow ripped its foot off before savagely mauling it.</p><p>“Elsa!” he gasped, staring at me in horror.  “Get away!” Which, rude.</p><p>“Fuck off,” I snarled back, dismounting in an instant and tearing a poultice pad from my pack.  He hissed as I tore past his cuirass and applied it, with less grace than a delicate healer’s hands might have used, but it stemmed the blood loss. “Alright there?”</p><p>His face white, though whether from terror or blood loss I couldn’t tell. A hurlock snarled behind me and I tried to vault out of the way, or I would have if Howe hadn’t grabbed my arm at that moment and tugged in the exact opposite direction, resulting in a net dodge of zero.  A powerful blow sent me staggering to the ground, leather armor not absorbing nearly enough, but I managed to use some of the momentum by spinning a return kick to its torso.  It reared back, buying me the time I needed to pounce forward, slicing a dagger through its throat, followed by Howe tripping it and stabbing its knee. I finished it through its eye, and spent a moment wheezing painfully, trying to grab air while being terrified of inhaling any possible contamination. “Bloody...Howe, you try...kill me now?” I panted.</p><p>“I was trying to pull you out of the way, you fool! Must you always ruin everything?!”  </p><p>“<em> RUIN-” </em> I began, and cut off in a gasp as Howe had painfully yet rapidly maneuvered into a draw position and knocked an arrow, and for a moment I stared down the shaft of death.  But the arrow soared over my shoulder, a wet thunk hitting far closer behind me than should have been possible, and even as I whirled to follow up, a Shriek fell before my feet, arrow sprouting from its gaping maw.  </p><p>“You don’t belong here!” he snarled, struggling to his feet.  The poultice was doing its job, but he was still white as a sheet, and all the red blood on the ground surrounding him certainly hadn’t come from darkspawn.  “Now get to safety, you utter bloody idiot!”</p><p>Ice and fire battled in my veins, but the immediate problem had been solved, though I was still terribly out of breath.  I took stock of my surroundings again even as I dug in my pouch.  No more immediate darkspawn were present, as far as I could tell, the arrow line in the battlements behind Howe seeing to that.  “Saved you first, moron,” I hissed, tearing out a blood restoration potion.  “Drink!”</p><p>“Like I said,” he growled, refusing the flask. “Stop ruining everything!”</p><p>There was no time for this, so I just slapped him, drawing a shocked expression.  My ribcage was still spasming, making forming words difficult. “Flee later you -<em> poltroon </em>! Help now!  You’re - Warden!”  I shoved the potion to his face, fully ready to force it down his throat. But though the fury in his eyes returned in full force, and this time he sucked a breath and took it.  At this I finally drew my bow, facing the bulk of the hoard, taking in the battle for a moment.  “Ronan, back.  Shadow, find Hye.”</p><p>Shadow raced off, and Ronan danced impatiently but obediently trotted back.  No help for it; there was no cavalry line in here, and one lone person on a horse was just a target for every damn darkspawn archer and mage in range.  Even Hye had dismounted, I saw, fighting at Varel’s side. I wasn’t willing to let any of the soldiers serve in the frontline when I myself wouldn’t, but I couldn’t deny I was more confident on a steady firing ground, and more use where I was than in melee.</p><p>Nathaniel’s furious eyes were suddenly right in my face.  “Lady Elspeth! Get to the archer line in the inner battlements, to high ground.  You’re not safe from their taint!” </p><p>“Can’t!”  I disagreed, and I could feel the budding tantrum, so I went back on the attack.  “Highever. Here. Saving!  But. Ferg too! He doesn’t know you’re...kill you less he...” Explaining took too many words.  “Bloody...where’s Kally? Can’t babysit forever!”</p><p>“Then don’t! I’m here to do my duty,” he snarled back at me, face grim but color returning.  </p><p>“Orders, Howe!  Do you have them?!” one of the guards barked, and I started for a moment. </p><p> “You’re in <em> charge? </em> ” I snarled, whirling on the Howe.  “...<em>Where is Kallian </em>?!” </p><p>“Busy!” </p><p>I paused a moment. She was alive. Beyond that - no time to dwell.  “Then <em> get to it, commander. </em>”</p><p>“I-” he stared, and his expression firm, and drew back his shoulders.  “Heavies, reform lines! Let them smash between the hammer and anvil! Archers, mages - slow and scatter! We’re not done yet, Vigil’s Keep!” </p><p>A cheer rose to greet him. His eyes met mine.  I offered him a nod and no more, taking place next to him.  Together we drew.  Death followed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Arc 1: Siege, part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Caught in a battle, originally content to give his life for a worthy cause, Nathaniel must now contend with having those he must protect.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Nathaniel Howe,  </em>5th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p>
  <em> Saved by Lady Elspeth.  Again. </em>
</p><p>He was in a battle and couldn’t give the thought more focus than that, but it loomed in his mind all the same.  Later, should he survive, he would have to face it. But there was no avoiding that Elspeth had bought him the slim hope that he might not fail again, when all seemed lost.   </p><p>The pressure the darkspawn were bringing to bear was enormous, but the defenders were holding well--or so it seemed. Nathaniel briefly cursed the muddy perspective from being on the ground, the only archer not assigned to the battlements by his own orders.  But he was a Warden, one of the few bodies here immune to the taint, and unlike Velanna, had plenty of training in how to deal with melee.  It would be the height of selfishness for him to retreat to the battlements too.  Oghren was within the frontline, a berserking red ball of fury and madness, his massive battle-hammer making mincemeat of all within his range.  The defenders gave the warrior a wide berth, which wasn’t ideal, as it meant darkspawn kept managing to slip through.  The forward battlements had the first archer line and Velanna with the damage-based mages; they brought forth the deadly pressure necessary to soften the mobs  ahead of the melee line, while the second battlements ensured that all that slipped through the frontline fighters were met with death.  Nathaniel stood with largely melee fighters in the second line, in a position he could taken in the battle and update orders as necessary, and also be most effective in his favored attack style of archery.</p><p>Velanna was tiring, he knew, having expended most of her energy early and in flashy ways, which explained why there were no more telltale flashes of light coming from the first rampart.   He’d tried to restrain that impulse but Velanna rarely listened to orders even when they came from the elf commander who she respected instead of the human she...tolerated.  She’d clearly only pretended she couldn’t hear him over the din of battle, but Nathaniel knew damn well he could make his voice project that far.</p><p>He’d tried to craft a bond with her through the most obvious of paths; she was unused to flirting and caught off guard when it was directed at her. He knew the efforts hadn’t been fruitless, by the coy looks and occasional blushes she rewarded him. But apparently mild attraction didn’t translate to respect, in this case.  </p><p>Damn it all.  </p><p>He hated to admit it, but the Cousland was proving a much welcome addition to his side. She had a deadly arsenal of bombs, seemingly using them without reserve or concern for costs, scattering any groups that managed to form past the frontline. But it was her arrows that were her most fearsome arsenal, her aim as deadly as he remembered, though he’d foolishly scoffed at the notion back then. Their shots moved in sync, often hitting the same target and securing the same kill.  And when Nathaniel opened his mouth to point this out, hesitating at whether he could order her, she shifted stratagems all too readably; she would take the left side, he the right, and together they unleashed devastation on their foes.  Knock, dip, draw, release.  A painful synchronicity he couldn’t ignore.</p><p>They worked too well together.</p><p>“You’re an archer now?” her voice cut in, arresting his attention for a moment.  Apparently her breath was back; good, good.  If he lost the Cousland heiress here, his life was thrice forfeit.</p><p>“I trained in Starkhaven,” he agreed curtly, his firing pace never slowing even as he replied.  It was glossing over the lengths he had to go through to secure that training, but he didn’t have the attention for that now.  “I had a talent. Seemed a waste to leave to languish.”</p><p>“You do,” she acknowledged, and he stilled briefly, emotions surging through him he couldn’t deal with and so shoved aside. “I thought your father disapproved of archery. It was for women and cowards.”</p><p>Emotions surged at him again, ugly this time. “A blight on what he thinks,” Nathaniel snapped back.</p><p>“Hm,” she murmured, but said no more, her shots never pausing.</p><p>Activity in the corner of his eye sank his heart and he shot a glance for horrifying confirmation; a sudden wave of darkspawn was charging at them from the wrong direction.</p><p>“LEFT FLANK!” he roared, hoping the command was understood, but there was a chaotic ripple in his ranks as only some knew to turn and face the oncoming threat. </p><p>Elsa threw a firebomb, landing in the midst of the initial charge and blowing several off their feet, giving him a chance to kill those that remained and buying the second line time to form up properly.  He gave a quick nod of thanks to Elsa, whose expression was grim. </p><p>She whistled loudly, though it wasn’t immediately obvious why.  “That’s a death knell,” she said crisply.</p><p>She wasn’t wrong.  “East wall must be breached.  Damnation!”</p><p>A moment later, Shadow came bounding up.  Elspeth pointed an imperious hand at Nathaniel.  “Shadow - guard. If Ferg tries to attack him -<em> guard</em>,” she ordered firmly, and Nathaniel’s eyes widened even as she turned to meet him.  “You’re needed here. I’ll scout it out.”</p><p>“Wh-<em> no, </em> dammit, you need to - come back here!” he snarled after her twisting form, dodging his attempt to grab her. No help for it; he couldn’t waste time chasing her, not when he suddenly had a battle on two fronts.   “Maker take you, you fool!” he snarled after her, but could give her no more heed. “<em>STAY SAFE!” </em></p><p>The battle raged on, and the defenders were so weary, for all they fought with great courage. They began to give ground, slowly, but surely.  Apparently the darkspawn were being struck from the side as well, which would eventually cause them to rout, but until then, it was only making them more desperate, shoving themselves into the castle to kill all within.  Too many darkspawn inside were coming from the east - she was ok, she <em> had </em>to be ok - and the defenders were too exhausted, spread too thin.  Dammit.  Was this it?  Finally left in charge of his father’s keep, even with the pitying help of Elspeth, and he’d still fail?</p><p>No.  <em> No </em>.  His life might mean nothing, but he had made a promise, and he wouldn’t fail now.  His mind cast about, and he nearly kicked himself for being a fool, for being too focused on the original plan once again: the solution was obvious.  He was one of the few ranged fighters on the ground level, and he was tying up the babysitting warbeast of Elspeth’s. But that was foolish - not now that they had two fronts, and two Wardens capable of melee.  He wouldn’t do as much damage on daggers as a bow, but right now, his defenders needed someone absorbing the bulk of the pressure of the second wave - particularly someone immune.    </p><p>He sheathed his bow and drew his daggers, charging into melee. Three darkspawn downed before they could react, but he found himself quickly mobbed once more, the darkspawn drawn to his Tainted blood as they always seemed to be.  But this time, with a fearsome mabari at his side, the darkspawn were less overwhelming, and they began to fall by the dozens.  Occasional spells and arrows dotted his path, as his ranged defenders provided some much needed support, though it was worrying as it took off pressure from the main gates.  </p><p>His side was beginning to tear open, a field patched poultice not nearly enough to stand up to the strenuous exercise he was suddenly putting it through again.  But he refused to give up now, even if his eyes were darkening.  His attention was wrested as suddenly Shadow howled - no, barked? - bouncing energetically, and there was a noticeable lull in darkspawn coming from the breach. When he saw darkspawn suddenly falling, arrows stuck in them from behind, he realized why.    </p><p>Elspeth had returned.</p><p>He couldn’t let her keep doing this.  She had to get safe.  “You can’t-”</p><p>“It’s bad, Howe, and your forces will die unless it’s taken care of,” she snapped.  </p><p>He paused a moment.  “Understood.  I’ll need to split the frontline and perhaps send Oghren off to handle it, then.”</p><p>She shook her head.  “Oghren’s the only reason the frontline hasn’t thoroughly routed.  You don’t need forces.  I have a plan.  I just need-”</p><p>A thundering roar shook everyone to their bones, the very ground reverberating under the pressure. It caused a moment of terrified silence from the defenders; even Shadow took on a defensive posture, her flat ears and slight whine a clear sign of her worry.</p><p>“Ogre,” Elspeth whispered.  </p><p>A massive form charged through the gateway, bellowing it’s challenge, armor rattling as it pounded its own chest, before swinging an arm and sending the entire defender lines scattering.  </p><p>“Armored Alpha,” Nathaniel explained grimly.</p><p>And then, she grinned savagely.  “That,” she said.  “I need that.”</p><p>“Are you <em> insane? </em>” Nathaniel demanded, grabbing her arm before she could vault off again, having learned from her tricks.  She didn’t even miss a beat, pivoting to slug him, but this, at least, he expected, and dodged out of the way, tugging at the moment she’d over-committed to get her off balance, and leaned in to growl directly in her face.  “I can’t have you dying!”</p><p>But it was his mistake to think fear would be her response this time, as apparently some Cousland bravery remained in her, her savage grin stretched and feral, eyes wild at the thought of the mincemeat she’d make of him.  “Yeah, <em> stop me, </em>” she challenged, and white hot pain overtook his every thought. He fell to his knees, realizing she’d dealt a blow to his injury.</p><p>“Worst...healer…” he gasped, spitting blood even as stars ringed his vision, but he had no idea if she could even hear it, all he saw was her boots running off.  </p><p>“Nathaniel!”  a worried voice cried out, and he realized Velanna had come running up to help him.  </p><p>“Keep your eyes on the battle!” he growled.  “Get back to your position!”  </p><p>“Can’t do that when our idiot commander keeps fainting,” she snapped back, her hands glowing.  </p><p>“Healing isn’t your specialty! Save your energy for decimating the darkspawn!” he tried to order, even as he felt her magic begin to work on him, but she ignored him, because of course she did. Shadow took a position guarding them, mauling anything that came close with a savagery, and Nathaniel to order her to chase after her partner, but of course she wouldn’t listen either.  </p><p>Was this what leadership was?  Plans that all fell apart because <em> no one would listen? </em> Everyone constantly saving him because he was too weak alone?  He suddenly had a lot more sympathy for Kallian, who’d handled her Wardens’ strong personalities with much more panache than he’d given her credit for; being such a large personality herself evidently helped.</p><p>Then again, she would never fall so easily.  </p><p>“This is bad,” Velanna hissed.</p><p>“It’s worse that two Wardens are out of the action!” </p><p>“Then stop resisting and we’ll be back to it faster!” she snapped, undeterred.  “By the Dread Wolf’s slobbering jaws, are all humans so moronic?  This won’t take that long.” </p><p>“I---dammit!” he cursed, but gave in, gasping as the pain began to fade again, and the wound knit itself. “Field patch only,” he finally hissed, and she gave him a look, but nodded, her bloodshot eyes betraying her own exhaustion.  A few moments more and it was enough; the wound was held together if delicate, and he quickly fixed the poultice.</p><p>“What is that crazy woman doing?” Velanna demanded, aghast, and Nathaniel turned to follow her gaze, paling.  </p><p>Elsa was impossible to miss, in part because for where she was facing the armored ogre a clearing had emerged.  It was more than that, though, as she currently had a faint, luminescent glow about her, arresting enough that, that, <em> fuck </em> , <em> that’s </em> why there was a clearing around her.</p><p>“Is she a mage?!”  Velanna demanded, and Nathaniel bit off the stream of curses he wanted to unleash, tearing forward. </p><p>“That <em> idiot just used a bloody lure trap on herself! </em>”</p><p>It was, undeniably, working, as the ogre had taken his stance and charged at her with a triumphant bellow.  Nathaniel’s heart was in his throat as he charged forward, but she danced out of the way, vaulting with more speed than he knew she possessed, staying just out of reach of the ogre’s flailing grab. With each dodge she hurled taunts she thought the ogre could understand. But its anger was infuriating it and giving it energy, each grab getting closer than before. </p><p>“Blood and damnation,” Nathaniel hissed, finding his moment and darting in, sliding underneath its legs and stabbing at its sensitive joints.  No luck there; his daggers only grazed the outermost layer, while Shadow bodyslammed herself into the ogre.  It didn’t do much beyond surprise the ogre, but it gave Nathaniel the time he needed to dodge out of the way of its wild swing. Even as he watched the ogre’s superficial wounds healed over; Kallian had warned him that some of the biggest had such natural regeneration, but it was terrifying to see it in action.</p><p>“Stay <em> out </em>of this, Nate!” Elspeth bellowed, impossible to ignore, firing a flaming arrow right into the ogre’s mouth, which pissed it off to the point of roaring, its attention re-centered.  “C’mon you dumb brute, I thought your kind was supposed to be scary!”</p><p>Big words from a woman visibly terrified, mixed in with the fury.  Whether he understood or not - apparently some of these darkspawn could <em> talk </em> now, so who knew anymore? - the ogre roared, taking a knee in a charge again. </p><p>Nathaniel vaulted on his back just in time to cling on, even as the ogre charged, barreling through stables while Elsa herself desperately ran, barely a step ahead of him.  </p><p>“Slow! Down! You! Blighted! Wretch!” Nathaniel snarled, stabbing it as often as possible with his one free hand. But the ogre was so massive and he couldn’t even draw blood; injuries were healing almost as quickly as he made them. A massive hand tried to dislodge him, and he dodged the first two attempts, but at increasing risk to his grip. The third attempt nearly succeeded in grabbing him, but only managed to sweep him off, sending him flying into a wall and temporarily losing his breath as pain hit him anew, darkness ringing his vision.</p><p>When he came fully back to his senses, hopefully but a moment later, Shadow was at his side, whining worriedly and nosing through his pouch, no doubt searching for elfroot potions and poultices he had long since run out of.</p><p>“I’m ok,” he lied to the mabari, struggling to get to his feat. <em>Should have done more than a field patch </em> , he briefly admitted, gasping and trying to grab his breath. Laboriously he pushed himself to his feet, watching as she dashed for a massive hole in the wall, and he stared at it in horror, realizing how bad the breach truly was. She wasn’t wrong that something needed to be done, but what was her plan here, was she just going to <em> lead it back outside? </em></p><p>Whatever had happened to the crack was absolutely <em> covered </em> in a thick layer of grease; that could only be the work of Elsa. But he had no time to ponder her plan, as in a moment Nathaniel’s heart dropped out of his chest. Elsa had been scrambling up the crack but her grip slipped and luck ran out, the ogre jumped into the breach and grabbed her in its meaty paws. She pounded against the fist uselessly, and for a moment, the ogre just leered.</p><p>“<em>NO!” </em> he howled, grabbing his bow and firing for the eyes.</p><p>He succeeded in striking through the narrow slits in its helmet, which proved almost worse, as the ogre roared in rage and squeezed.  A sickening crunch nearly made him vomit; her scream of pain was terrifyingly and abruptly cut short.  </p><p><em> Nononononononono what have I done nonono- </em> he mentally screamed, running forward, desperate to do something, firing arrows where he could. The ogre bellowed a challenge, a fist swinging to hit her, but there was the unmistakable roar of a trap trigger, and suddenly it surged in pain as its legs were pierced by massive claws. Its attack was interrupted and the ogre lost balance, falling against the walls of the breach and fists opening.  Out of nowhere, wires sprang forth, surrounding his body and restraining him in place.  </p><p>Elsa dropped and Nathaniel was there to catch her, her face bloody and wounded, but - praise the <em> Maker </em> her eyes were still open - never leaving the ogre.  </p><p>“Gotcha,” she snarled, blood pouring from her mouth.</p><p>At some unseen trigger, there was an unholy roar as flames burst fort, surrounding the ogre. Nathaniel surged backward still carrying Elsa.  Not a moment to soon, as the flames rapidly took up the grease slathering the gap, the tongues a ravenous maw that turned the ogre’s corpse into a hellish bonfire, a beacon likely seen for miles around.  A raging cheer rose; apparently other soldiers had come to back them up; Shadow waited no longer and with loud whines nosed at her partner.</p><p>“What…the…?”  Nathaniel murmured, staring in awe, and Elsa groaned a laugh, spitting blood.  Had she...planned this? How?  She hadn’t known there was going to be an ogre, right?</p><p>“Gotcha a plug,” she slurred.  “Lookat--armor.”</p><p>It was hard to make out through the intensity, but fires were indeed hot enough that the armor seemed to be softening and reforming, fusing the massive skeleton in place. The breach was secure; no darkspawn would be coming this way.  </p><p>“You….” he began carefully, trying to banish the awe from his tone. The distinct scent of a potent fire resistance balm wafted to him, so at least she wasn’t completely without wits, but still! This sort of recklessness could <em> not </em> be encouraged.  “<em>Fool! You almost died!” </em>  </p><p>But she didn’t respond, her eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment he panicked, wondering if he’d spoken too soon. He checked immediately and nearly collapsed with relief, her vitals were weak, but undeniably present. He had to run - no, he was being foolish. He was too injured to move quickly enough.  “You!” he snapped to the nearest soldier, carefully handing Elsa’s mangled form over.  “Get her to Velanna. She has to save her, <em> whatever </em>it takes!  Now!” </p><p>“Sir!” the soldier agreed, face white.</p><p>“Shadow -<em> go with your partner,” </em> Nathaniel ordered, and Shadow growled.  “<em>Her orders don’t matter if she dies!  </em>Protect her, dammit!”   Shadow snarled but apparently agreed, running off to follow.  Nathaniel spent a moment taking stock, hands shaking with so much adrenaline and fear.</p><p>She’d solved one problem, but now--now it was time to end this. </p><p> </p><p>He ran back, as fast as he could manage and steady. He was out of arrows but still well used to daggers, wasting no movement as he surged from darkspawn to darkspawn, slitting every vital foolish enough to present itself in his reach.  The battle was beginning to turn in their favor, he saw; the darkspawn had tried to reform lines, nowhere near as mindless as they were supposed to be, turning to face both the army to their left and the castle before them. Within the castle itself the advance ranks had thinned to the point that they had mostly reclaimed the entirety of the grounds, a few lone darkspawn only delaying their inevitable slaying with a last stand.  </p><p>“Oghren!” he bellowed, and the dwarf didn’t even turn to look back, raising his hammer in a hail - nope, that was just to smash on the head of a darkspawn.  </p><p>He ran up to stand next to the dwarf, whose own earsplitting grin, unsettling though it looked, brought a savage glee in Nathaniel as well.</p><p>“Ready to go on the offensive, friend?” he offered.</p><p>“Buddy, I’m <em> always </em> offensive,” he bellowed savagely.</p><p>Calm settled over him; calm, mixed with a savage joy.  Death had been beaten back.  Death would not win today.  They would survive, and they would <em> triumph. </em> Joy leant strength to his voice.  “TO ME, VIGIL’S KEEP!” Nathaniel roared.  “FOR THE GREY WARDENS!”</p><p>The defenders roared back. And with renewed vigor, they charged.  </p><p> </p><p>The new pressure from the army had brought the defenders the time they needed, and the moral boosts that came with the victories they’d begun achieving could not be underestimated.  They were no longer on the back foot and pressed from all sides, and with numbers in their favor, the tide had truly well turned.  The darkspawn began losing momentum and falling back. Nathaniel’s daggers sang as he darted forward, Oghren trampling a path forward, flashing daggers and glinting battle-hammer a glorious symphony.  He could feel the defenders’ morale lift behind him, bolstered by the sight, not even diminished as two more ogres strode forward.  Where were they even <em> hiding? </em>  The one saving grace was these, at least, lacked armor.</p><p>“Dibs on the left one!” Oghren called out with savage glee.</p><p>Nathaniel felt his own lips quirk in a feral smile.  It was all theatrics, but theatrics were exactly what the wearied defenders needed right now.  “Race you to winning, then,” he challenged.</p><p>“Buddy, you’re <em> on </em>,” Oghren  crowed gloriously, which was a mistake, as Nathaniel was already running forward. “H-hey! Cheater!”</p><p>Nathaniel paid him no mind, optimism lending an energy to his steps as he surged in.  The ogre took notice, swinging such a slow palm to catch him, but he easily ducked under that, daggers flashing.  He knew the ogre’s hide was too thick to do much damage down here, but he needed its undivided attention and rage.  The plan worked all too well; the ogre bellowed in rage; his attention was all on the Warden now, and he took a knee to charge.  </p><p>Well, couldn’t have that.  Defenders were behind him, after all.</p><p>Normally he’d disrupt the ground with a grease or ice bomb, but they were gaining ground, now, and it would only hurt the defenders more than help them.  So with a loud yell, he instead charged the ogre.  The lumbering monstrosity seemed taken aback, not entirely used to charge threat being met with charge, but was all too happy and dumb to try flailing for him again.  This time, Nathaniel nimbly vaulted on top of the arm that sailed towards him, a surge taking him up to the ogre’s shoulder and clinging to its horns.  It bellowed and tried to buck him, but Nathaniel didn’t waste time with its thick neck hide, now; his target was the eyes, blessedly unprotected by a helmet like the last one had been.</p><p>The ogre screeched and redoubled its efforts to buck him off, but his daggers were well into its eyes sockets and he just dug them deeper, clinging on no matter how bady the ogre reared or how much Nathaniel’s beleaguered side screamed at him.  Finally, his wrists now sunk into the sockets, he’d gotten deep enough that the ogre groaned and fell, and he ripped his daggers free, vaulting off the falling corpse and landing gracefully beside it, to the roaring approval of the watching soldiers.  He turned to glance at Oghren, who was dealing the final deathblow to the ogre’s head. </p><p>“You all witnessed it, I beat him first,” Nathaniel pointed out, to their jeers and Oghren’s colorful cursing.  “Now let’s go finish the job!”  </p><p>The responding roar was breathtaking--and gratifying.  And like water flowing downhill, there was only one end left.  Triumphant, renewed, and with numbers on their side, the defenders charged with bravery, and steel met darkspawn flesh. The water flowed faster as it gained momentum, forces sweeping through the darkspawn as they drew courage from their success.  And soon, the darkspawn were routed, turning to flee as the defenders triumphantly shouted.  </p><p>Nathaniel watched them, concerned, too many of them still alive for his liking.</p><p>“I suppose you’ll need someone to chase that, will you, Howe?” </p><p>A shiver went down his spine, but he wouldn’t let fear show on his face, as he turned to face Fergus Cousland.</p><p>“I’m a Warden now,” he said firmly, meeting the man’s eyes without flinching.</p><p>“So I gather,” Fergus agreed, his own eyes hard.  “How strange that your commander never found the time to tell me.”</p><p>“You mean your sister never told you either?” Nathaniel asked, voice mild to cover the steel.   </p><p>Fergus blinked.  “<em>Elsa</em> <em>knew</em>?  Wait--did you see her in there?  She’s safe, right?” </p><p>“She’s safe. She took an injury, but she was quipping even afterwards, and my mages are seeing to her now; she’ll be fine.”  Maker, please let that be so.  It <em> had </em> to be true.  Velanna wasn’t the best healer, but she was still a mage, she had to be fine, she - No. These fears served no purpose.  </p><p>“That...sounds like Elsa,” Fergus said, reluctantly amused, buying into Nathaniel’s cavalier seeming attitude as Nathaniel hoped the teyrn would.  Teyrn Cousland could do nothing to help that would surpass mage healing, after all, and he needed Fergus and his men - no, his <em> forces  -</em> for a more important task.</p><p>“We’re wasting time,” Nathaniel said curtly.  “Your horses can likely thin their numbers if you chase them-”</p><p>“Our horses are exhausted just from getting here, only magic convinces them otherwise. We won’t be able to pursue long,” Cousland retorted, but it wasn’t a denial.</p><p>Nathaniel nodded.  “Good.  Because we still need to know where we’re going - these forces were <em> sent </em> after all.  Buy me time, thin their numbers, make their retreat a panicked haste that’ll leave a wide trail - we Wardens will follow them and finish the rest.”</p><p>“You can’t order me, Howe,” Fergus snarled.</p><p>“Then <em> please </em>, Fergus,” Nathaniel snapped.  “Shall I get on my knees? I will.  Help me. I can’t protect this land alone, and until Kallian returns to command again, I must do all I can to end the menace.”</p><p>Fergus glared, but spat to the side.  “You speak sense.  We’ll charge and thin them, but not to the point of killing our mounts. The rest will be up to you.  Sure you’re up for the task?”</p><p>“Would it matter, if I perished in the doing?”</p><p>Fergus snorted.  “I suppose not.  SOLDIERS!”  </p><p>Nathaniel nodded, and left him to it.  </p><p>“Oghren.  Let’s get Velanna.  We need to finish this.”</p><p>“Yahooooo!” The dwarf agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Velanna was still tending to Elspeth when they returned, nearly collapsing in exhaustion, while Shadow lay nearby, whining and whimpering, though he wasn’t sure if that was concern or pain, as the mabari had taken injuries herself.  “How is she?” Nathaniel asked, voice betraying him with its quaver.</p><p>“She’ll live,” Velanna said tersely.  “I’ve aligned and attached the ribs as best I can, and her lungs are mostly cleared and patched, but I’ve not much mana left to finish the job.”</p><p>The relief hit him harder than the ogre had, and he nearly sank to his knees in gratitude.  It was all he could do to keep a calm expression. “Use what you can. The battle is won, though we’ll be needed soon again.”</p><p>“I’m not going to be much use if I’m out of magic,” Velanna pointed out.  “I’ve hit my limit on lyrium potions.”</p><p>Nathaniel nodded.  “I know.  But all we’ll be doing for the next several hours will be running - you should be able to recover sufficiently by then, no?”</p><p>Velanna considered, but nodded.  “I suppose I’ve got the physical benefits of Warden stamina too,” she allowed. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, but she merely smirked slightly, and returned her attention to healing the Elspeth.</p><p>“Don’t worry so much there, Howe,” Oghren rumbled beside him.  “Trust me - you weren’t there for the siege of Denerim. Takes a lot to put this woman down.”</p><p>“I’m not-” he began, and cut off the foolish denial.  “She can’t die,” he said simply.  “She’s - she’s too important.  There will be trouble.”</p><p>“Aye, I know that much. But Velanna’s got her back from the brink, and those Highever folks seem to have some mages attached to them.  Ferg will prioritize getting his sister back into health.  And Anders will be back eventually.”</p><p>Nathaniel’s fists clenched.  “You’re right,” he murmured.  “But I can’t leave without doing all I can to make sure.”</p><p>“Excuse me, but who’s doing the work here?” Velanna muttered.  “Work which, I might add, would be a lot easier without all this inane chattering. “</p><p>“I thought anger powered your spells?” Nathaniel tried teasing.  </p><p>“Not my healing ones,” she snapped.  “And by the way - what’s this about healing not being my strong suit?  I was trained by our First, you know.  You think the Dalish just <em> skip healing magic </em>?” </p><p>He raised his hands in surrender.  “Velanna, I owe you a great debt for saving Lady Elspeth’s life, and you’ve done incredible work tonight. My foolish words were spoken in haste and battle fury; I rescind any implication you’re not a preeminent healer and apologize for ever claiming so.”</p><p> Faint color appeared on her cheeks, unused to hearing such praise.  “Oh, well, I suppose it’s all well and good.  She did take care of that armored Ogre, I gather.  Good a use as any for my last gasps of mana.”  With that she shuddered, nearly collapsing, but caught herself. “There. It’s done. Someone else will have to take over, but she’s in no danger of dying.  Oh, off, you slobbering brute,” she added, protesting Shadow’s particular show of affection.</p><p>Sensechal Varel limped up, assisted by a stout, dark, black haired woman in Denerim livery, giving him a noticeably unfriendly expression.  Dark eyes seethed at him, but he was well used to that, by this point. </p><p>“What have you done to my lady?” she demanded, voice steel and anger</p><p>“Ah - Captain Nalka Hye, of the Denerim royal guard,” Varel introduced, coughing.  “I owe her my life.”</p><p>“Any debts are to my lady,” Hye returned, her gaze flickering to Elspeth, form tense.  Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice the personal emphasis attached - was Hye her personal guard, then?  Was there...more than one guard captain?  “Well?”</p><p>“She took injuries from the armored ogre,” Nathaniel summarized.  “We’re doing what we can to heal them, but she’ll need more attention.  As will her mabari.”</p><p>“Understood,” Hye responded crisply.  “I need to get to the healers - Varel, are you alright if I leave you here? </p><p>“Go,” he agreed, gingerly leaning against a nearby post. With one last unfriendly look towards Nathaniel, the captain ran off. “I am at your orders, acting commander, and despite all appearances, still capable of movement.”</p><p>“It’s good you’re here, seneschal.  We need to chase the darkspawn - which means leaving the keep.  Kallian’s in charge when she returns, but until then, defer to the Couslands.”</p><p>He bowed. “As you order,” he agreed.  “I’ll speak to Garavel.” </p><p>Nathaniel turned back to the two Wardens.  “Now then. Get patched up and restock. We move as soon as possible.  Let’s <em> end </em> this.”</p><p>They scattered.</p><p>By rights, he should go too.  And he would, but...the poultice was doing its job, now that he was no longer doing his best to reopen his wound while it was in place.  And while he needed more arrows...he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Elspeth.  </p><p>He couldn’t just leave her alone. </p><p>He stepped closer carefully; Shadow opened an eye to stare at him but other than an unimpressed huff didn’t seem bothered, and he gingerly sat down next to her.  Her face had color in it again, thank the Maker, but her cuirass was too damningly splattered with blood for him to feel comforted.  </p><p>He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, chiding himself for his ridiculousness.  <em> Why is this hard? She’s not even conscious.  I just spoke to her not an hour ago! </em>  He swallowed past the lump in his throat.  “My lady, I...can you hear me?”  he asked, unsurprised when she didn’t respond.  He checked her vitals, and looked around, hoping the healer would come soon.  They were steady, if weak; she’d be fine, he knew she’d be fine.  </p><p>She had to be fine.</p><p>Surely there was something he could do, though?  He was not without his own skills as a healer, though by agreement between his parents, the sons were trained by their father, and the daughter by their mother.  But he’d wanted to learn and his mother was pleased to teach him, whenever his father was out of town.  And Delilah and Elsa were both more than willing to share what they knew, especially when he returned the favor.</p><p>But he had nothing left. His potions pack was empty since partway through the siege; much of their stores had been massively depleted.</p><p>“Shadow, do you know if she has any potions left?” he asked, grasping at straw.  The Mabari gave an unimpressed wuff, nosing at her side; her healer’s kit had clearly been crushed when the ogre had--</p><p>Nathaniel flinched, unable to face the fresh horror of that memory.  “Maker, this is my fault, isn’t it?”  he breathed.  “If I hadn’t written that letter...you’d never be here.”  His fists clenched.  “Everything I do, every step I take...my debt grows.  Twice now you’ve saved me from certain doom, even when I tried my damndest to push you off.  Even when you were <em> crushed </em> in the process.”</p><p>He bowed his head, emotions overcoming him, and he couldn’t allow that.  She was unconscious, no one was paying attention, he didn’t even know who he was pretending for, but he had the feeling if he fell apart now he wouldn’t get back together in time to do his duty.</p><p>“Thank you,” he whispered finally, through gritted teeth.  “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for saving this keep.  Thank you for repaying my insults with kindness. Thank you for mustering to save Vigil’s Keep, even after-”</p><p>He broke off, his throat clogged.  He couldn’t do it, not anymore.  He stared at her, unable to tear his eyes away, a sight he hadn’t seen in so long. One he thought he’d never see again.  And yet.</p><p>Injured and broken. In pain, barely clawed through from death’s door.  It stirred up so many conflicting feelings in him it was all he could do just to master them, to project an aura of calm confidence.  </p><p>He wished her eyes would just open. He’d take even her justified fury at him right now. Just….anything.  He reached out to touch her hand, not able to justify the action but telling himself he wanted to check her pulse once more.  But even as he did he noticed Denerim colors in the corner of his eye, and turned to see the same hard faced woman as before, Captain Hye, returning with an army mage, glaring at him from a distance with clear suspicion.  He snatched his hand back and swallowed, forcing his voice to sound dry and unconcerned.  “Recover well, my lady,” he said quietly.  He nodded to the healer as they approached, and with reluctance, walked away. </p><p>He was a Warden. He still had a duty to do.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Arc 1: Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Wardens have successfully faced and defeated the Mother, and hurry home to recuperate.  Elspeth finally talks with her brother.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 7th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel had missed the countryside of Ferelden, even badly scarred as it was from the darkspawn.  And yet, even though he’d been running through it for hours upon hours by now, he’d barely managed to take any of it in, wrapped up in his own thoughts.  </p><p>Well. Trying to be, anyway, as there was one constant seeker of attention he found he couldn’t ignore.  </p><p>“Oh come on, even Warden stamina has its limits!  We beat the big bad gu - er, girl, I guess - we should take a break!”  </p><p>Nathaniel gritted his teeth against the whining, knowing it said more about his own nerves than Anders' character that he was so on edge. “Didn’t those Templars give you plenty of practice at running?” he pointed out to the mage, whose woeful complaining was loud enough it should be considered assault.  </p><p>“And you’ll notice they kept <em> catching </em> me, so I clearly never got that good at it!” Anders retorted in exasperation. "I’m just saying, it’s been nonstop running for the past week! Man needs his rest.”</p><p>“You truly haven’t been sleeping for a week?” Nathaniel demanded, genuinely impressed. He certainly knew Anders had stamina, but that was quite the feat.</p><p>“What? No! Of course we slept. We’ve just been running all day. C’mon, you knew what I meant.”</p><p>“Then <em> say </em> that next time,” Nathaniel groused.  </p><p>“Hey, don’t give me that sass. If I hadn’t patched you up, you wouldn’t be running either,” the mage grumbled, and at this, the commander finally chuckled, shifting their focus. </p><p>Kallian had a presence to her that commanded attention; cognizant of that, she rarely bothered to intervene in their banter, preferring such relationships to grow organically without her weight on the scale. But it was natural they’d all focus on her; she was a living legend, and if anything, the stories had undersold her strengths.  </p><p>“He’s got a point, Nathaniel,” she teased him.  </p><p>“Hah!” Anders crowed gloriously. </p><p>“Seriously, though, Anders. You’ve done incredible work, and I’m eager to get you back to Vigil’s Keep. I’m sure many could use your healing right now. But if the pace is too rough on you, we can slow down.” </p><p>“Oh, well,” Anders trailed off, while Nathaniel’s calm expression didn’t betray his sudden internal grin.</p><p>“Have you not often claimed your magic is a gift of the Maker? Then healing the wounded is your responsibility, mage,” Justice piped up, sure as rain.  “Many who placed their bodies at risk to defend your home may yet die without your help. Will you abandon them to their fate, as they refused to abandon you?”  </p><p>“I didn’t say that,”  Anders muttered.  “I’m just - a body has limits.”  </p><p>“Fine, then.” Justice stopped running, causing the others to come to staggered stops as well. Stiffly he crouched, his position unmistakable, and gestured at his back; Sigrun had to awkwardly cover her sudden peals of laughter as a coughing fit. “I do not get tired, and burden means little. I will carry you.”</p><p>“Uh-” Anders’s face went through a delightful series of contortions as he confronted the well intentioned offer to <em> ride a corpse</em>. Especially one that smelled as ripe as Justice did. “You know, I think I’m finding my second wind.  I’m just so...motivated to go help those people now.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” he demanded suspiciously. “We should not accept any excuse to tarry.”</p><p>“Sure! Quite sure!” Anders squeaked. There was a struggle on his face; it was clear the mage was trying hard to be kind and not to openly look disgusted.  </p><p>“Thank you for offering, though, Justice,” Kallian said, quite seriously.  </p><p>“Yes, thank you, we’re all quite grateful for your presence right now,” Nathaniel agreed, more solemnly, but much less seriously. And inexplicably, this is what made the dam break. Oghren howled with laughter, leaning on Sigrun who just as casually batted him off while tearing up herself. Even Velanna chuckled, while Anders glowered and Justice looked - well, indifferent as ever.  </p><p>“Well then, let’s get moving again, Wardens,”  Kallian ordered, though even her lips were quirking.  </p><p>“I hate you all,” Anders mourned. </p><p>Banter quieted a bit after that; and they ran in relative silence.   Wrapped up in his thoughts, Nathaniel nearly missed that Kallian had changed her pace to match his.  </p><p>“She’ll be ok, you know,” Kallian murmured quietly. </p><p>Nathaniel’s heart pounded within him, to have been so vulnerable and exposed.  Once, he might have pretended otherwise, but Kallian never seemed to accept such diversions, and so he’d given up trying.  “How can you know?  You weren’t there,” he replied softly, swallowing a lump in his throat.  </p><p>“She’s Elsa.  She always wriggles out of chaos and trouble, and pretends it was her plan all along.”  Despite himself, Nathaniel huffed the facsimile of a laugh, though it couldn’t banish the sick feelings twisting his stomach.  “Besides, we’ll be there soon.  It’ll be Anders’s first priority.”  A miniscule amount of tension drained in Nathaniel, then; it felt so selfish to demand when there would be others nearer the brink, but politically it was the right call anyway.  “No matter how bad it was, we’ll get there in time to help.  You said Velanna healed her away from the brink, and there were mages with the Highever army.  They won’t let their lady fall.”</p><p>“I know that, but…”  he trailed off.  </p><p>“You regret leaving her.”</p><p>Nathaniel flinched.  “It would be foolish to feel that way.”</p><p>“You’ve done dumber things,” she pointed out teasingly.</p><p>“...thanks.”</p><p>“For what it’s worth, Nathaniel I think you made the right call.  Having you three show up to help with the Mother was a gift of the Maker.”</p><p>“I doubt you needed us, but I’m glad we were able to back you up all the same,” he agreed with a frown.  “But I’ll never forgive myself if something happened while I was gone. And I <em> know </em> it’s foolish, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to relax until I see her up and walking for myself.”</p><p>“I understand that.”  Kallian smiled faintly, though tension was evident in her eyes.  “Why do you think I’m pushing us so hard?”</p><p>Nathaniel’s lips quirked.  “Worried too, commander?”</p><p>She chuckled.  “Didn’t say I wasn’t. But cheer up, you grump.  Everything’s going to work out fine.”</p><p>Nathaniel sighed.  “I hope you’re right, commander.”</p><p>“What’s with the doubt? I’m usually right,” she agreed cheerfully.    </p><p>“Excuse me, but what’s this about being usually right?” Velanna demanded, as the commander’s last comment had not been quiet.  “Didn’t you lead us straight into the Architect's trap, twice now?”</p><p>“Don’t forget spinning in circles for hours while you tried to solve that stupid rune puzzle,” Anders chimed in.  </p><p>“Oh, oh, and all those times you keep charging right into traps and triggered every one of them!” Sigrun added.  </p><p>“The disloyalty!” Kallian gasped.  “Is this how you show respect to your commander?”</p><p>“You spared that darkspawn creature who called himself Architect to go weave further plots,” Justice agreed, fury evident in his tone. </p><p>And just like that, the mood shifted.  Their pace slowed, and stopped. Tension, hiding low beneath their surfaces, was beginning to bubble forth.  Nathaniel felt dread building within him, in a way that defied rationality, reminded all too vividly of his parents' arguments long ago.  He wanted to run away and hide, and hated his own shameful cowardice. They’d had this argument.  They’d solved nothing last time. Would this be the strand that unraveled them all? </p><p>“Justice. I asked for you to trust me.”</p><p>“I cannot trust this decision, commander,” the spirit replied firmly.  </p><p>She sighed heavily.  “I know more than one of you feels this way. It was a hard decision. Rest assured, we will discuss this further, once we are home, and our people are made safe.  I’m not immovable in this, but I still believe it was the right call. But it’s a decision I hope we can all come together and agree on, when we have the luxury of <em> time </em>. We had none then, and the Mother was the greater threat.”</p><p>“And what if you change your mind?  What if we’ve lost our chance to stop him?” Sigrun asked quietly. </p><p>Kallian smiled faintly.  “He still needs us, remember?  This won’t be the last we see of him.  If we change our minds <em>unanimously</em>...he won’t walk away from the next meeting.”</p><p>“That…I can accept,” Justice decided firmly, and Sigrun and Anders, the other two who'd objected most strenuously, nodded in agreement.  </p><p>“Good. Then let’s get <em> moving </em> people. If saving others doesn’t motivate you, at least consider the <em> baths </em> at our destination.”</p><p>Laughter filled the air and the tensions evaporated as they began running once more.  Nathaniel realized he could breathe again.  Maker, he could be such a child sometimes. And without even quite realizing it, Kallian’s optimism and good cheer had wormed its way into his brain.  Things would be alright. She would be safe.</p><p>And he would get to see her again.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p><em> Elspeth Cousland, </em>8th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Heat tore at me, the taste of ashes and iron on my mouth, all while shadows chased after me.  I tried to run but it was like moving through molasses, was I even getting anywhere?  I had to find...I had to find... I had to save...something, <em> anything</em>, <em> Maker not this</em>.  A shadow loomed over me, and terror nearly pulverized me.</p><p><em> “It didn’t have to be this way,” </em> that hateful voice prodded. Mentor and Monster. <em>“You could have saved them.” </em></p><p>
  <em> My fault. Too weak. Too stupid.  Too blind.  Too stubborn. My fault. Myfaultmyfaultmyfault- </em>
</p><p>I shot upwards, realizing a moment later I was awake, and that had been a dream. Pain seared through me at the motion, wrenching a gasp as I took stock.  Coated in sweat, sunk in pain, but anything was better than <em> that </em>. </p><p>A hand on my arm and I nearly screamed out, but familiar brown eyes greeted me, full of worry.  <em> Fergus. </em>  “Elsa-Elsa, are you alright? Healer!” </p><p>Glowing hands hovered near my ribcage, soothing the pain and calming the spasms.  “Thanks,” I rasped, when I had the capacity of speech.</p><p>“Anything to help a pretty lady,” the mage replied cheerfully, winking at me. Blond hair. Hazel eyes. Who was he? He looked familiar.  Wait, more importantly, why was he flirting with me, had I missed something? I was covered in sweat and felt atrocious, there was no way I was anything approaching "pretty" at the moment.</p><p>Fergus breathed a sigh.  “Elsa, thank the Maker you’re awake.  I’ve been worried sick.”</p><p>“I...how long have I been out? Wait, are things alright? The siege-the army-!”</p><p>“Calm down, Elsa, things are fine. The battle was won,” he said, smiling faintly.  I blinked, and took in the room around me.  Fergus was smiling warmly at me, as was--</p><p>“Kallian!”  I breathed in relief, and she chuckled. I ignored the other figure in the back of the room, but at least I now could place the mage hovering over my bed as Anders.</p><p>“Wondered when you’d notice me. And you always claimed I was dreadful at sneaking,” she teased me, and I rolled my eyes, managing to control my wide smile to twitching lips.  “Morning, sleepyhead. Well, afternoon, I suppose. How are <em> you </em> feeling?”</p><p>I patted my ribcage gingerly. “Lucky,” I admitted.  “I remember a lot more pain.”  Tension shot up from the corner of the room, which again I firmly ignored.  I looked over at the healer.  “What’s the damage?”</p><p>“Well, your ribcage was smashed, but I’ve - well, Velanna, really - managed to mostly set it in place.  Your lungs were pierced in the process, but those have been largely cleared and healed.  I’ve put your rib and rib fragments in a sort of, well, magical lattice right now. Everything will reattach, but slowly; you should recover in a few weeks provided you maintain minimal activity. I’ll check in with you daily, and bring you some of my best embrium potions to help manage the pain.”</p><p>“I’m familiar with brewing those myself,” I said with amusement.</p><p>The mage grinned. “Let me do a favor for a beautiful princess, alright?  Besides, again, you need to be minimally active.”</p><p>That was the second time he flirted with me.  <em> Why </em> ?  Well, I couldn’t say I didn’t want to get a better look at the mage who’d collectively made the templar order <em> lose their damn minds </em>, so it was worth keeping this door open, if he was so willing to stroll through it.   I matched his expression, giving him a sly look through lowered lashes. “Sure, but I’m pretty wretched at doing what I’m told.” This wrested a delighted chuckle from Anders, his eyes alight with possibilities, while Fergus and Kallian just gave long suffering sighs.   </p><p>“Thank you, healer,” Fergus said formally, nodding.  “If you need a break, please do so; otherwise, there are many wounded who yet need care, if you’re so inclined.”</p><p>“Hey, you’re not in ch-” </p><p>“Anders,” Kallian said sharply.  “Teyrn Cousland has a point. Do you have the mana left to see to them?  Many could use your help right now.”</p><p>“Oh, fine,” Anders pouted, as he headed out the door.  “Guess it’s nice to be so needed.”</p><p>“You’re well, Warden Howe?” I asked sharply, before he could disappear as well. Fergus jumped - had he forgotten, or just not known? Nathaniel froze, though he didn’t turn back to look at me.  What, did he seriously think he had hidden from me? He had to know he couldn’t sneak up on me.</p><p>“My injury was healed as well, my lady,” he said quietly.</p><p>Fergus was still glowering at his backside, but evidently there’d been a talk, for there was no snarky quips forthcoming.  “Good to hear it.”  I paused, mostly for dramatic effect.  “We’ll need to speak later about the missive Denerim received.”</p><p>He hesitated.  “I’m at your service, my lady,” he agreed, then quickly departed, presuming dismissal all too readily.  I sniffed at his backside, while Kallian raised an eyebrow at me.  “What? He was trying to be stealthy <em> in my room. </em> Do you know how rude that is between rogues?” I demanded rhetorically.  “I needed to remind him I don’t like him sneaking about and will always catch him.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow.  “You remember this is my castle, right?”</p><p>“Well then. I needed to remind him I didn’t like him sneaking about in <em> my </em> room in <em>your </em> keep.”</p><p>Despite herself, Kallian laughed, rolling her eyes.  “Well, I’ll not get in between rogue games this time.  I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson.”  Her expression sobered.  “Elsa...I-I’m so glad you’re ok.  Hopefully I can snag some time with you later, but for now, I think your brother’s got precedence.”</p><p>“I look forward to your visit, hero.” Despite my cheerful expression I watched her go with mild dread; once she left I knew Fergus’s noble façade would drop, and the yelling would commence.  Instead, the moment the door latched shut, Fergus rippled, and tears filled his eyes, surging to kiss my temple.  “Maker, if you weren’t so injured I’d be hugging you so tightly right now,” he whispered.  “I’m so glad you’re ok, dear sister.  I can’t lose you too.”</p><p>I had no defense against such emotional whiplash, tears flooding my eyes as well.  Gingerly I reached up and held him with as much force as I could muster until I felt pain - which was functionally none.  “Maker, Fergus, I missed you,” I admitted, voice thick with emotion.  The moment held for a long time as we just held each other, quietly, before finally his snarky side had to come through.  </p><p>“So come visit more. Or maybe, <em> at all. </em>”</p><p>“Be nice to me, I’m injured,” I told him solicitously.  He chuckled faintly and I released him, so desperately happy to see his mildly sardonic grin.  </p><p>“So.  We have much to discuss,” he said with a gentle voice, sitting back to lift an eyebrow at me.  </p><p>“I’m at your disposal, your lordship,” I responded dryly, and he rolled his eyes at the formality.  “But I’d appreciate it if you let me know how things outside this room are.  I think you need to appreciate how patient I’m pretending to be.”  </p><p>“Battle was won, the darkspawn were routed and the Wardens left to pursue them to their source.  Apparently Amaranthine was also attacked, which is where Commander Tabris ended up.  They all went and hit the leaders of the darkspawn resurgence; they say the problem should be resolved, but we’ll know more in a few weeks.  As soon as they came back Tabris had her healer see to you, and here we are.”</p><p>It would do. “...how long have I been out?”</p><p>“A few days now. Apparently you were put in a healing coma to help your recovery and distance you from the pain.”</p><p>I processed this. The sheer number of reports and messages I must have missed out on, the things I’d left incomplete.  My fingers twitched for a quill. “...oof.”</p><p>“Casualties for Highever were light. The defenders suffered worse, but our own healers are helping everyone. Shadow took minor injury, and after being persuaded you were getting healed, allowed herself into the healing kennels.”</p><p>I smiled faintly, relieved.  “What a relief.  I…thank you so much for coming, Ferg, I know it’s your duty to see to Amaranthine but-”</p><p>He waved a dismissive hand.  “Not entirely sure that the Wardens are technically my liegers anymore, we left those oaths vague on purpose, but yes, neighbors don’t let neighbors fall to darkspawn.  You were unnecessarily manipulative about it though,” he chided.  </p><p>I nodded, accepting the condemnation I was due. “I was.  You have my apologies.  And, well, I can’t promise I won’t sink into unconsciousness soon and opportunistically, so you might as well get into the meat of this first.”</p><p>Fergus gave me a considering look.  “Alright then.  Howe, huh?”</p><p>I blinked.  “<em> That’s </em> the mea - you know what, fine.  Yes. Nathaniel returned, and joined the Wardens.  I suppose I forgot to inform you.  You have my apologies, your lordship.”</p><p>He flicked my nose.  “None of that now.  If you’re going to give me the big “I’m injured” puppy eyes so I won’t be aggressive, then you don’t get to rely on your diversionary bag of roguish tricks.  Fair’s fair.”</p><p>“Fair’s so terribly dull,” I protested. </p><p>“And unfamiliar territory for you, I know,” he agreed sympathetically, though his eyes twinkled with mirth.  Or maybe they were just still overbright from tears. “Arlessa Tabris should have let me know, and I shall be having words with her later as well, but you still should have told me yourself.  So why didn’t you?”</p><p>And with a scowl, realizing he was forcing me to either own up or throw Kallian under the cart, I launched into a slightly more informative summary of events. I sanitized it, because of course I did, but Fergus wasn’t exactly thrilled I’d kept this from him, and didn’t take kindly to the suggestion that his growing temper tantrum was exactly the reason I had done so, and soon enough our voices were getting raised until pain wracked my body and I broke off with a gasp, blacking out.  When I came to Fergus was gently calling for me, his face pitched with worry.</p><p>“Elsa, Elsa, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve troubled you,” he murmured.  </p><p>Maker, he looked so devastated at being near me in pain.  I didn’t have it in me to hide the agony past what I was already trying, but I could at least offer him other relief.  “I’m sorry too,” I finally conceded.  “I should have told you.”  And when I spoke the words, I realized they were true.  “Maybe I had good reason to keep his return from you, but once he joined the Wardens, you had a right to know.”</p><p>He sighed heavily.  “You really think I would have killed him?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”  <em> Yes. </em>  “But I didn’t want to take that chance.”</p><p>The faintest quirk appeared on his lips.  “This isn’t because you still have fee-”</p><p><em> Bitch. Whore!  </em> I flicked him on the nose.  “Don’t be crude brother,” I chided him, hiding my sudden stomach drop.  “Whatever silly notions you read into it before, there’s nothing there <em> now </em>.”</p><p>He searched my expression but apparently found what he was looking for, nodding in satisfaction.  “Alright. Well.  I suppose...it’ll take some getting used to but at the end of the day, I trust you.  And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s clearly doing good for the Wardens.  It’s rather fitting.”</p><p>I sighed, and nodded.  “Can’t legally hold any of his past misdeed against him anymore.”</p><p>“Doesn’t mean he won’t make new ones,” Fergus pointed out.  “Considering the Wardens are now so tightly linked with Ferelden politics, he’s not completely untouchable.”</p><p>I grinned faintly.  “One can hope,” I agreed. </p><p>Fergus chuckled, then raised an eyebrow curiously.  “So what did you think the meat was?”</p><p>“Oh, you know,” I grimaced, gesturing to my ribs.  “Dangerous stunts.  Injuries to my <em> terribly </em> important personage.  Perhaps my inability to make time to visit you.”</p><p>He sighed.  “I tease about the visits.  You’re doing important work, I know that, and I’m so proud of you for serving the King and Queen with such distinction.  I’m sure you’ll get to Highever when you have the time.”  </p><p>The sincerity was worse than the chides, a chain of guilt on my heart, but I shoved the feelings down.  “A Cousland does their duty,” I said faintly, the words tasting like ash.</p><p>“That she does,” Fergus agreed without any of the irony I felt.  “As for the injuries...well.  Absurd plots and heroics were always in you.  I’d lecture you about being more careful, but--would it take?”</p><p>I couldn’t look him in the eye.  My hands clenched, finger feeling the absence all too keenly.  “I made a mistake,” I admitted.  “Several. I’ve gotten...slower. Less lucky.  I didn’t account for that. And I should have called in Hye's help.”  </p><p>The moment stretched, and I still couldn’t bear to face him.  Finally he sighed.  “Well, for all the mistakes you make, you usually learn from them.  Just remember that you mean more than just yourself now, will you?  You’re the heir to the throne, after all.”</p><p>The words were a bitterly ironic weight on my neck, and I dipped my head in acknowledgment, finally looking at him again.  “I’ll be more careful in the future,” I promised.  “But at the time, I had people to protect.”  </p><p>His eyes narrow slightly, probing me.  “That sounds...rather like the classic Elspeth attempt at weaseling out.  I’d rather a promise you stay out of combat,” he admitted slowly.  “Your duties don’t seem to leave much room for visits, surely they don’t usually leave room for heroics as well?  I keep hearing the wildest tales attached to your travels.”</p><p>I snorted.  “What am I, Orlesian? Fancy little poof only hiding in my seat of power, talking a big game but never actually doing <em> good </em> in the world?”</p><p>“Politics can do good,” Fergus protested.  </p><p>I lifted my chin and stared at him, a stubborn expression I’m sure he knew all too well.  “I’ll serve where I’m needed, Ferg. There are still plenty of dark and dangerous plots, about, and Ferelden was hard hit by the Blight. Vultures are circling it, and it’s not just some of the remaining Howes causing problems. Slavers kidnapped Ferelden citizens and I haven’t tracked them all down, yet, or returned them all home. Monsters and demons alike prey upon the people, drawn to the devastation and turmoil.  Sometimes serving means giving advice to the King and Queen, and sometimes it means getting out there and hunting.  If I’m to suffer the former, I’ll allow myself the latter.” </p><p>He met my gaze, jaw clenched, but finally dipped his head.  “Just be more <em> careful </em> ,” he stressed, then a sly grin formed on his face.  “You did say you should have called for help, yes?  I’ll remind you that you’ve several who would help you if you let them.  Or better yet, do it <em> for </em> you.  After all, you know the Hero’s better at this than you.”</p><p>I stared at him, aghast, theatrically pressing a hand to my heart.  “Foul play!  How dare you come at me with such true and undeniable facts!” </p><p>And though I continued to protest, my heart could only warm as his laughter grew.   I’m sure he had several duties he needed to attend to, but he lingered with me awhile all the same. All too soon, though, duties took him as well. He soon bid me farewell with strict and mothering reminders of taking it easy and that I should tell the door guards any desires I might have.  </p><p>Which left me alone with my thoughts.</p><p>I stared at my hands, taking a deep breath, and finally allowed them to start shaking again, tears burning at my eyes, only partially from the pain.</p><p>So close.  I’d come so terrifyingly close.  To leaving Fergus alone, to failing, to letting everyone down.</p><p>How did this happen?</p><p>In part I blamed giving away the ring; I was used to wearing it and enjoying the benefits of its enchantments without even thinking about it.  I’d even declined to fully utilize my haste runes, noting the armored ogre’s heavy movements and thinking I was at the right speed. </p><p><em> It’s the Howe’s fault </em> , I thought bitterly.  <em> If he hadn’t distracted it, I wouldn’t have to dance so much closer to keep its attention.  He probably did it on purpose. </em></p><p>
  <em> Clearly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Instead of just a Warden who saw an armored ogre and considered it his duty to face it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And maybe had no idea what my plans even were and so had no reason to just leave it to me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> … </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fine.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maybe it’s not his fault. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Maybe I’m just trying to lay the blame anywhere but my own self overestimation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Guess I’m not quite cured of that cockiness after all. </em>
</p><p>I sighed, clenching my fists before finally relaxing them, slowly easing myself back to laying down.</p><p>
  <em> I’m not reasonable where he’s concerned.  I have to be careful about that or I’ll be blind to his true intentions. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And, hey. He did save me at the end. That’s a nice change. </em>
</p><p>Two of the three Howe men I knew quite well had used the pretense of darkspawn to attack Couslands - to attack me. I supposed if you counted Nathaniel’s botched attempt at saving me at the beginning, I could give it a clean sweep, too, but even the worst interpretation of that was balanced by his saving my life at the end.</p><p>I considered it very charitable of me that I didn’t assume his tugging me right into a Hurlock’s blow to be a deliberately hostile action.  This presumption was borne out by his lack of attempts to strike me down later, and his misguided attempts to help me with the ogre. </p><p>But then again, these also had pragmatic and cynical interpretations as well.  The pragmatist saw that keeping me alive was simply a manner of sanity; I was helping with the defense, and once he knew Fergus was around too, he knew that my death would be blamed on him, regardless of the circumstances.</p><p>The cynic would point out that he took his one shot, before anyone could recognize me, and gave up once he realized others had seen me, and would know who I was; that he would have to wait until later, when it could no longer be connected to him so easily.</p><p>I told myself this was unlikely - hoped, really - but there were other considerations to weigh as well. It was clear that it was Nathaniel who forged the missive to Denerim requesting help; I’d spoken with Fergus enroute and knew that Highever had received nothing themselves; I’d bet Waking Sea and West Hill had similarly been snubbed. It hadn’t originally seemed that odd, as Kallian naturally <em> would </em> reach out to Alistair first, damn the political consequences. But Nathaniel was more careful. Considering he would come to the same conclusions as myself - the king would not come - he should have defaulted to his northern neighbors.  </p><p>But he didn’t.  He targeted Denerim, and there were very few there that could answer his call.  Which meant the Howe wanted me here.  Why, I wasn’t sure, but there was one dark guess that lodged itself in my brain.</p><p>He wanted me in danger. </p><p>It burned me to consider that, but I couldn’t outright deny it.  Several years ago and it would have been unthinkable.   But too much had happened since then.</p><p>My injuries meant I couldn’t ride horseback, and likely even long walks were out.  Carts and carriages were too bumpy with the roads as they were, all chewed up from the Blight and winter. I’d be stuck here for weeks, likely, and while Kallian would want me safe, she wasn’t great at seeing through roguish plots. Nor was Fergus, who would surely return home sooner anyway.</p><p>And so now, I grimly realized, I was quite possibly stuck with a dagger trained on me.  </p><p>One thing was for certain; we had to have a conversation soon.  I had to try and get a read on him.  What did Nathaniel Howe want of me? What were his plans? </p><p>Did I even have it in me to fight them?</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Arc 1: Reckoning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Long overdue, Elspeth Cousland finally arranges to have a conversation with Nathaniel Howe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland, </em>10th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>The night sky was a balm to my vision. Having only had the stone ceilings and sparse decorations of my room to occupy my thoughts and distract me from my many duties, I was immensely grateful to have decided upon this course of action after all. Of course, everything below the horizon was the scarred aftermath of a brutal siege on Vigil’s Keep, so the whole view was somewhat mixed.</p><p>The twisted remains of the armored ogre’s skeleton and surrounding metal slag and scaffolding stuck out like a sore thumb. According to Kallian, her engineers were planning on baking that into the wall itself as a horrifying monument, which - great. Capital. That’s exactly the kind of story I wanted spreading around. Especially the part where I slipped. Where the Howe had to save me.</p><p>Ugh.</p><p>There was a story there that I could spin, so it wasn’t beyond salvaging, but I had no energy to think about that for now. Besides, it would require the willing complicity of the Howe, and I’d not hold my breath for that.</p><p>I sighed, sweeping my gaze over the courtyard, assessing the damages mostly out of a vague sense of duty; the keep had been hard hit but had weathered the problem, and I knew they’d recover well. The sounds of the Wardens party drifted out to the courtyard, and the watch was skeletal as a result. Very few people were out and about right now. I was keenly aware of how visible I was, perched up on the inner battlements, slack posture perhaps laying it on a bit thick.</p><p>Thankfully, it didn’t take long.</p><p>Rogues had ways to hide and obscure themselves from a variety of senses. This meant we also had to learn to pierce those advantages and detect such dangers. There was a <em>weight</em>, for lack of a better term, to attention, especially if that attention was hostile. And we learned to detect it from others. Of course, the next step was to try and further enhance our skills by disguising such markers when we were trying to remain hidden.</p><p>While fostering, it had been an escalating game we spent many hours in, in training and in fun. In this, though, I’d always had an advantage over the elder Howe brother. For all that Nathaniel was an excellent rogue, something about his gaze was too piercing to easily be masked, and he’d never managed to sneak up on me. It was good to know that hadn't changed.</p><p>I waited; the gaze didn’t waver, and with a heavy sigh, I pushed off to go. Then, I gasped as if in pain and collapsed. I tried to make it as smooth as possible but the lie became true in the process, pain wracked my body, darkness ringing my vision. Pain would not stop my plots, though.</p><p>No shouts followed, but with my ear to the walkway I could hear even the catlike pace of running feet approaching, and finally, the unmistakable shift of a trigger.</p><p>Nathaniel sighed, heavily. “You could have just sent me a message, my lady.”</p><p>I pushed myself off the ground to look for myself, and didn’t let pique show when I realized he was a pace closer than I assumed, and had missed most of the traps. I had to wonder if he hadn’t just stepped on that single one deliberately.</p><p>“Less fun that way,” I dismissed blithely, standing back up carefully. I certainly didn’t need to spell out why I didn’t want our long overdue reckoning to take place at my sickbed. I cocked my head, surveying the scene, certainty taking me; he was on one of the closer traps, one of the ones that wouldn’t spring until he’d released his weight. “Why that one?”</p><p>“Smoke and grease are a pain to get out of these garments should I mess up the triggering, and I figured you’d be most comfortable with me caught in the jaws of a freeze trap.”</p><p>“Thoughtful of you,” I said dryly, conceding that round. He met my gaze evenly, raising an elaborating eyebrow, silent otherwise. Moonlight parted the overcast, faintly illuminating his armor, and I was struck by a moment, seeing him - really seeing him, finally, with no other distractions, or bars, or blood, or threats. He bore an unmistakable resemblance to his father, and his brother was too near his visage to have me settled, and yet, well. Maker.</p><p>He’d always been good looking, but these last few years had made him annoyingly, <em>strikingly</em> handsome. He’d grown into his features well, with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones; even his hooked nose now complemented his dark hair and piercing eyes.</p><p>This was, I felt, very unreasonable of him.</p><p>My gaze did not go unnoticed, and Nathaniel’s eyebrow’s quirked; he was mildly off balance and uncertain, but I couldn’t get much of a read beyond that. “What are you looking for, my lady?”</p><p>Like I’d slip up that easily. “You’ve changed, but not much. Just wondering if I see more of your father or mother in you.”</p><p>He gave me a mildly sardonic look. “That’s a little on the nose, for you.”</p><p>“Your nose is definitely your father’s,” I retorted, wrinkling mine.</p><p>His eyebrows quirked again. “You’ve changed a great deal, my lady. I’m surprised at what hasn’t, though--you kept that hairstyle.”</p><p>I smiled faintly, showing a hint of teeth. “I’d rather forgotten you wore something so similar,” I lied, not needing to be believable. “But yes, I’ve worn my hair like this for awhile now. I’m rather known for it at this point, alongside the archery.”</p><p>He eyed me, face impassive, but the hesitation betrayed him still, and my smile widened slightly.</p><p>“Your skills with the craft were not irrelevant to my decision to learn in Starkhaven ,” he stiffly conceded.</p><p>Surprise had to be quickly masked, and for a moment, I floundered, not having expected so thorough a self-humbling from him. “Well, you’ve demonstrated quite the skill,” I settled on, resorting to polite fact when nothing else would do. “I’m sure it will continue to benefit the Wardens.”</p><p>He inclined his head. “You’re too kind, my lady.”</p><p>Nothing more to be gained here. “Anyway, technically I did send a message. And it resulted in you being here!”</p><p>His gaze sharpened, then he closed his eyes in visible exasperation for a moment, which I counted a victory. “The Teyrn’s party was your prompting, wasn’t it?”</p><p>I gave him a sunny smile. “What can I say? Of course the heroic Wardens should have a party celebrating their victory and success. But pray tell, Warden, what brings you out here? You’re missing your due adulation.”</p><p>A slight scoff, and he looked away, face calm, but eyes unhappy. “Such a party is not for the likes of me.”</p><p>It took an effort not to openly roll my eyes. “It’s for all the Wardens, Howe. And unless you’ve fooled Kallian good and proper, you count.” I forced a sly grin. “That keen to avoid Ferg’s toasts?”</p><p>“It certainly factors. I can’t say I relish the prospect of forcing him to say kind words about me. Then again, say what you will about how convincing his polite façade is, he’s very good at damning with faint praise.”</p><p>My lips trembled with the effort not to smirk; how had he managed to initiate that impulse in me so easily? I drew back my shoulders in a rough approximation of a warrior’s stance, taking on Fergus’s cadence. “And of course, Warden Howe’s performance as a warrior has always been consistent and unique.” His lips quirked as well, and he quickly looked away. I dropped the Fergus act, tilting my head, analyzing him quietly. His actions so far weren’t exactly what I expected, but what did that mean? We’d bantered much in our youth, certainly, but now, it was possible he was aiming to try and provoke such nostalgia.</p><p>No, no, he’d never make a play so weak.</p><p>The moment of levity faded, and under my scrutiny, Nathaniel soon turned again to meet my gaze, questioning. “Are you actually surprised, though? This trap seems to have planned around me not going.”</p><p>I hummed, neither confirming nor denying; “suspected” wasn’t the same as “sure”, and I had a number of contingencies depending on how he reacted. “Truthfully, the only real surprise so far is that you’d take such an obvious wounded bait gambit. I was practically counting on that part failing.”</p><p>A tension in his jaw, another victory for me, then. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe I was motivated by a sincere concern for your well-being.”</p><p>My smile was sharp and brittle. “Now, now, Howe, I don’t mind a spot of lying between rogues, but it’s rude to be so blatant about it.”</p><p>He blew out a breath. “I shall endeavor to not lie blatantly, then,” he agreed. Grey eyes sharpened once again, and I felt vulnerable at his gaze, sweeping over me and surely seeing all my weaknesses. “That said, it’s good to see you out of bed, my lady.”</p><p>“Better,” I praised with dark amusement. “So. Let’s discuss your forging the Hero of Ferelden’s handwriting. Because I assure you, the king will be <em>furious</em> when he learns.”</p><p>His expression blanked, though he had to know that was coming. He carefully shifted his weight, maintaining the trap trigger but taking a rather formal stance. “The commander put me in charge of the keep upon her departure, and thus my orders became an extension of her orders. I was given the authority to speak with her voice, nothing says that didn’t extend to her written words.”</p><p>“It was clever,” I acknowledged, and he stilled, grey eyes sharpening on me, apparently not expecting that. “I needed to hear it from you to be sure, but I had guessed as much. Personally, I think such subterfuge was not necessary. But, I can see how you’d feel there’d be too many questions and time wasted if it had openly come from your own hand. I will speak to the king on your behalf, as I believe the action was, primarily at least, motivated by saving those under your care.”</p><p>“I-” he began, and cut off, uncertain. “I’m relieved you think so.”</p><p>“That said, if you ever pretend to be her again, I’ll see to it that you’re tarred and feathered and given a fool’s crown. I’ll have you paraded through Amaranthine every day for a week. I will make sure Delilah’s there to see it, every time, and that the crowd is well equipped with the smelliest possible druffalo shit. And then I’ll give you over to the king.”</p><p>I could see the protest on his face, likely positive Kallian wouldn’t allow it, especially since I knew she approved of his actions in the aftermath. But apparently he thought better of it, and simply nodded. “Duly noted. Your graciousness exceeds both memory and rumors.”</p><p>Heh. “So,” I said with a sigh. “With that settled, you had to be aware of the consequences. So, will you do me the courtesy to cut to the chase? Why did you want me here?”</p><p>He blinked, a tremble going through his frame, his tension quickly mirrored in mine. Fists clenched - threat? No, apparently not. “That’s the last thing I wanted,” he said quietly. Ugly feelings welled up within me, but a lifted eyebrow was as much reaction as I’d grant him. “I’d hoped only for the Royal Army, and the king himself. I had not realized they weren’t available.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I wish you hadn’t come.”</p><p>It was...possible, I realized, trying desperately to abstract myself away from the building emotions. Perhaps I overestimated how much information Nathaniel had access to - Kallian was the one who had that information, after all, and she might not have considered it relevant enough to share. He could be lying, of course. But it was still a mistake on my part not to have considered that angle. I nodded slowly, desperately thinking of lakes, of maintaining an even tone, of anything to avoid betraying myself.</p><p>Bitterness and grief burned within me, but I couldn’t show that, couldn’t let him know how weak I suddenly was. Maker, why was I so emotional, so disappointed? It was both good and not unexpected he hadn’t wanted me here, in danger.</p><p>“You’re lucky I did come,” I said, tone flat, pique showing more than I wanted.</p><p>“Lucky?” he repeated, disbelieving. “Lucky?! I almost - you were nearly killed.” He trembled, looking away quickly. “Ferelden can’t lose you.” I watched him, uncertain. “You were foolish. You shouldn’t’ve been at risk!”</p><p>Anger, at least, was easier to control, and hide. I gripped my feelings harder and shoved them down. My voice was steady when I replied. “I am a Cousland. It is my duty to fight on the front lines, when I asked so many to give their lives and fight at my side. It also served to encourage and inspire all who took up arms in defense of Vigil’s Keep.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Warden,” I cut him off sharply, annoyed at how much he was hounding how weak, how <em>cowardly</em> I was. “Consider your courtesy carefully. Or do you intend that I weather more spurious insults? I believe we’ve had words on my patience.”</p><p>He strangled his next words, staring at me, and inclined his head, tense. “You’re right. We were lucky. Without you, we would have fallen. And since I’ve not yet had the opportunity to say this while you were conscious...thank you.”</p><p>So. He could still pretend, at least. Whatever his plans were...at least he wasn’t the same ball of rage and despair I’d seen in the jail cell.</p><p>Maybe there was something to salvage here after all.</p><p>Well, I’d be damned if he showed himself more courteous than me. Emotions and hurt were no excuse for Bad Manners. I sighed and knelt down, disabling the freeze trap, and gingerly he stepped off the trigger, gaze sharp on me, waiting, watching, but not making a move. “Why?” he asked quietly.</p><p>I shrugged. “It’s unnecessary,” I said cryptically.</p><p>“Because you’re not without other contingencies.”</p><p>A ghost of a smile traced my face. He wasn’t wrong. “Thank you for saving me, too,” I finally breathed quietly.</p><p>He scoffed, expression bitter as he lowered his eyes. “I endangered you,” he murmured. “If I hadn’t shot that ogre-”</p><p>I shook my head, wondering why he was trying to deny his own heroism. I knew better, he knew better. “I was in its grip regardless, he would have tried to crush me without your prompt. And because you caught me, because you got me to a mage so quickly, I apparently should make a full recovery, with no lasting consequences. You saved my life, Howe, and that’s no small thing,” I finished, tone chiding.</p><p>His cheeks twitched with tension again, but the damned man was just too good at the noble façade. “Ferelden can’t lose you.”</p><p>Yet? I wondered. Yet the face value of the statement had enough merits in its own right; it’d look rather bad if the Cousland heiress died on the Howe’s watch. I nodded. “Whatever your reasoning, I - I owe you a debt.”</p><p>He chuckled darkly. “Now who’s blatantly lying? As if I don’t owe you everything.”</p><p>A shiver went down my spine, at the dangerous promises hidden in those words. Did he owe me good, or ill? I saved his life, but so too had he saved mine, and his family had been decimated by my hand. “Saving you at the beginning was purely practical; the defenders would rout if their Wardens fell.”</p><p>He shook his head. “Even were I to grant that, and additionally, that somehow saving you is not more of the same, that’s far from the only debt I owe you.”</p><p>“You joined the Wardens, Howe. Any debts from before are wiped clean,” I reminded him.</p><p>“That’s not the way I see it,” he disagreed, eyes meeting mine, implacable.</p><p>I would not let fear show. I would not let the man see how much he terrified me. I had to be a master of myself and expectations, or people would see the vulnerable weakling within. I match his gaze, lifting my chin slightly in obvious challenge. Here I was. Vulnerable and weak. Injured terribly. <em>Try your luck, you probably found all my traps.</em> “Fine, then, shall we discuss these debts you suppose? I saved you from the consequences of thievery. That’s-”</p><p>“I was trying to get you to kill me!” he snapped.</p><p>Huh. I breathed out slowly, forcing my nerves to go with it. It...didn’t really work, but the illusion of control was basically just as good. “I know,” I agreed.<em> Didn’t think you’d admit it, though.</em></p><p>His eyes widened just slightly, and he hesitated, looking away. “The way I acted...why did you free me?”</p><p>I sighed, not entirely sure I was ready to face this after all, not as raw as I was suddenly feeling. I waved a dismissive hand, looking away. “Because you were being far too cruel to be believable. Despite your father, you'd never use such vicious gendered slurs. Acting like bloody Vaughn, really? Little thick, that.”</p><p>“Don’t downplay what I did!” he snapped. “I called you a bitch. A <em>whore</em>. That should have earned me the hangman’s noose! You can’t be saying you - just...let that go?”</p><p>My expression calmed, and I stared into his glare, refusing to flinch even under such intense scrutiny. “Of course I haven’t let it go.” <em>Idiot</em>.</p><p>“Then <em>what</em>?” he breathed, desperation humming just below the surface. I raised an eyebrow, inviting elaboration. “I beg you, tell me what you you want of me, to settle that. Or am I to just...fall further and further into your debt until I’m crushed?”</p><p>That’s what he thought I wanted? Was this who we were now? Weariness hit me, at the pain and frustration and grief of it all, at how...incapable we were of interacting like humans, much less like the friends we’d once been. Was this it, was this all I could hope for - just a system of debts and receipts, until one day the last grain of barley would be balanced between us, and we could finally release each other from all that bound us?</p><p>“I don’t want anything of you, Warden,” I said quietly, unable to meet his eyes. Tension spiked in him, and he stiffened. “I mean it. You’re not your father, you’re free to find your own path.”</p><p>His fists clenched, and he bowed his head, frustration screaming from his every limb. “If you have no use for me...then why did you even want to talk?”</p><p>Did he really think I’d hold that letter over his head? No, I needed to be honest with myself; I wasn’t above it, if Howe were a threat. It was becoming increasingly clear to me, though, that he simply was a good man who briefly had a temper tantrum borne of loathing and a dark depression, of wanting to escape, spitting on his nemesis on the way out.</p><p>Was I happy about that, and his steadfast refusal to even try and offer an apology? Of course not.</p><p>But it didn’t make him a bad man.</p><p>I shook my head slowly. “I mostly just wanted to know why you sent that letter. I’ve gotten what I came for.” He met my eyes, then, probing, and I nodded. “Thank you for indulging me, Warden. I need trouble you no further.” I turned to walk away.</p><p>“I knew you’d read it.”</p><p>My retreat arrested, I froze. I didn’t dare turn back to look at him.</p><p>“That’s…all I wanted,” he continued, when I didn’t say anything.</p><p>I waited until I was sure I had a voice. “You said you didn’t want me here. Was that a lie?”</p><p>“No, not…no. I didn’t want you in the battle.”</p><p>“...So, you think to convince me such words wouldn’t inspire action in me?”</p><p>“I didn’t think you’d have a choice,” he pressed. “The king left you behind in Denerim last time, for your safety, however that turned out. I didn’t presume he’d risk you this time, either.”</p><p>“Then <em>what</em>,” I began, my tone icier than I expected, and hesitated a moment, getting control of myself. He just had to pick at those wounds, didn’t he? “Did you hope to accomplish?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he said quietly. “Just...the last time I said anything to you, I…” he trailed off. “It’s been over half a year, and I just…” he trailed off again, and I could hear the struggle, the undercurrent of emotion in his voice. “I just...needed to say something. <em>Anything</em>. Scream into a void I knew wouldn’t echo back.”</p><p>Wetness struck my cheeks, and I wondered if it was raining before realizing the source. Maker’s breath. This was why you didn’t turn your back on rogues, or let your guard down. He probably didn’t even realize how much it sounded like he missed me.</p><p>Or how much I wanted that to be true.</p><p>No. <em>No</em>. I knew better than that. He could have reached out to me at any time. Andraste’s ashes, he hadn’t even so much as expressed regret for how that went down, just...surprise I wasn’t more angry at him about it.</p><p>I <em>knew. Better.</em></p><p>I would not be taken in.</p><p>Maker. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I waited a long beat, controlling my emotions, trying so hard to not let him know how deeply he’d just struck, how utterly ruined he just left me. “What,” I said quietly. “Do you expect of me, then?”</p><p>“...there’s nothing in this world I’d ask of you.”</p><p>The moment stretched. Vocal cords fought me, hard. I had to briefly give up fighting and just focused on surviving, of not falling to pieces. Slowly but surely, my lake of calm came back, and I could speak again. “Then we’re done here, aren’t we?”</p><p>A long pause. If I hadn’t felt his eyes on me, I would have thought he’d left. Finally, he spoke. “Yes. I suppose we are.”</p><p>And finally, I felt control slowly return to my limbs, and I was able to walk away. And thanks to the cloak of calm I’d finally woven, I didn’t even flinch when he punched the wall behind me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Arc 1: Scheme</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathaniel adjusts to having his greatest source of shame and emotions living in the castle with him.  Meanwhile, politics are afoot, and have not forgotten the Wardens, whatever they claim about neutrality.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>“Any messages for me?” </p><p>“None today, Warden,” the doorman asserted, smacking a hand to his chest in an overly formal salute.</p><p>Relief and disappointment welled in Nathaniel at once, but he was careful only to give a polite nod. “And no one -”  <em> No one was lingering by, trying to chat you up? No one important even brushed past? </em> He cut himself off, wishing he hadn’t even betrayed that much. “...seems to need anything?”</p><p>“Is there - anything in particular you’re waiting for?” </p><p>“We’re recovering from a siege,” Nathaniel demurred. “I just want to be sure I haven’t missed anything urgent.”</p><p>“If I hear something, I’ll let you know the moment I see you, Warden,” the doorman asserted, saluting once again. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said politely, bidding his farewell. And so it continued. That just figured, really, and he was foolish to expect anything different.</p><p>Over the next few days, Nathaniel was glumly discovering that the Coulsand’s Highever presence in Vigil’s Keep was impossible to ignore.  </p><p>It wasn’t that seeing Highever livery particularly bothered Nathaniel, or that it was a problem that he was now far more likely to run into the delightful surprise of armored men and women giving him dirty looks in his own home.  Even in the face of such open hostility, he was unfailingly courteous. And while good manners were their own reward, Nathaniel privately enjoyed the bafflement and occasionally the open pique on their faces at such a response.  </p><p>Besides, Kallian had already made it clear the sky would fall before she kicked Nathaniel out, so he had no reason to fear his place, no matter the rumors some of the more clever might try to spread.  She commanded nearly universal respect, and where that failed, fear.  He had a place here, and he was secure in that.  And so it was relatively easy to face such hostility in his new, old home. </p><p>It wasn’t all bad, anyway.  A surprisingly high percentage of the Highever army gave him cautious nods of respect, and he had to work hard to fight against the sudden feelings of elation that would surge at him; he distrusted such positive optimism. </p><p>But. That was, well.  Nice.</p><p>By far the biggest problem, though, was that they would not stop talking about Lady Elspeth.  He couldn’t really hold their curiosity against them. But that was small comfort to counteract the constant threat of walking up on conversations about her, speculations and gossip all.  </p><p>Every time he heard her name, it felt like a small dagger, a wound slipped past any defense he might try.  All efforts he made to recover, to maintain his composure, and one name nearly undid him, every time. </p><p><em> Useless</em>, she’d called him.  Not in so many words, of course, but she’d never be so crass as that.</p><p>That she saved him multiple times now had wormed itself into his heart since the siege, forming a cursed seed of hope.  A vain, foolish, <em> stupid </em> hope, that maybe she had a plan for him.  That he wasn’t nothing to her after all.  Maybe she wanted him, specifically, alive for...something.  </p><p>If so, there was a way he could start to pay her back. That he might earn her forgiveness.</p><p>And while he <em> knew </em>he shouldn’t have had hopes, knew he should know better, the comforting lie being torn from him shook him harder than he expected.</p><p>He was nothing to her, and she wished him anywhere but near her. <em>I'll not spend another fucking moment in your miserable company, Howe. </em>Her words still seared into him liked a brand. The least he could do is respect her wishes, until she indicated otherwise. <em>We’re done here, aren’t we?</em></p><p>Any time of any day where he was strolling the halls, his abject failure kept being rubbed into his face with these conversations.  This was all exacerbated by him practically having a compass glued inside of his skull as to where Elspeth was supposed to be recovering. He was never unaware of exactly the direction that room was, no matter where he was situated on Vigil’s Keep grounds. As her recovery progressed, she was more likely to take small walks around the hall, or join the commander or her brother for meals.  He was largely able to avoid her whenever this happened; her meal plans easy to discover.</p><p>As for chance encounters, the surprise and frustration that flashed on her face whenever she saw him, no matter how quickly hidden, was signal enough as to her feelings. He began to avoid those too, keen to not hurt her more. It was an ache, knowing she was so close, but he'd not take advantage of the circumstances. She was trapped here, recovering in a siege she'd helped save them from. Forcing her to endure his presence would just be insult onto her literal injury.</p><p>At nights, behind closed doors and in the blessed comfort of privacy in his room, he allowed himself the relief of moping more openly, staring at her ring and attempting to ponder letters and craft words she might be willing to hear.  But never once did it feel like his efforts would be successful.  </p><p>Either he had hurt her terribly, and nothing he could say or do would earn her forgiveness, or he hadn’t hurt her at all, because he meant nothing to her.</p><p>He wasn’t sure which was worse.</p><p>The letters he burned, the ring he continued to wear hidden, and he hated himself for his weakness. But he had to allow himself the indulgence of believing somehow, some day, he would come up with a plan that would bridge the chasm he himself had created. But in the meantime, a Keep recovering from a siege needed his full attention; he had a duty, as a Warden, and that came above all else. </p><p>During the days, hunting became his major refuge, and an area where his skills were welcomed and prized. Kallian had had to order a great deal more hunting parties than normal, a need driven by and simultaneously bolstered with help from the Highever army.  Naturally, they hadn’t yet left, not wanting to leave behind their injured until they were well enough to endure travel.</p><p>His skills with a bow brought in a great deal of the sparse game with little effort, and his ability to sense darkspawn a welcome charm to his fellow hunters, though it had not yet proven necessary.  He was able to occasionally identify rare herbs for use with the healers, and practicing his archery was a welcome respite.  The training yards tended to be crowded these days, and Nathaniel enjoyed being useful while not necessarily having to be near so many people. </p><p>And if he happened to catch a higher portion of pheasant than the others, it wasn’t <em> necessarily </em> because he remembered how much <em> she </em>preferred it to the other winter and early spring game.  Pheasant was simply a more interesting challenge for an archer, was all.  </p><p>One such morning, over a week after the siege, he was just returning from a hunt only to be summoned to the commander’s office.  Upon arrival he found, unsurprisingly, Seneschal Varel inside, speaking in low tones with the commander.  But the other two occupants were a far more unpleasant jolt. And judging by the looks on the Cousland faces, the feeling was mutual.</p><p>He cast a cautious glance about; was he the only Warden summoned?  The quickest to arrive? But at his arrival, Kallian gestured the door to be shut, and Nathaniel smoothed his expression, despite the spike of discomfort.</p><p>He felt her eyes on him.  Judging. Wary. Open displays of submission would be a bad idea, not with such wolves sharpening their daggers as the Couslands, but a minor signal of humility would likely help. As naturally as he could make it look, he took a position still in front of the commander’s desk, but with a noticeable distance between him and the Couslands.  Fergus himself was seated, as was appropriate for the highest rank in the room, despite it being Kallian’s office, and Elspeth had positioned herself at her brother’s right hand, interestingly enough.</p><p>Kallian seemed to pay it no mind, distracted by her low conversation with Varel - uninteresting, that, just an update on current barracks capacity and availability of beds, though it seemed to be stressing the commander for some reason. Fergus stared at him sidelong as he took his position, with practically screamed hostility.  Ever since their rather explosive confrontation about Nathaniel’s <em> necessary </em>downplaying about the extent of Elspeth’s injuries, that was rather standard. Elspeth, by contrast, gave him a much milder look, and she seemed to pay him little heed beyond that.</p><p>Mild should be good. That should be preferable. And yet.</p><p>
  <em> Useless. </em>
</p><p>He shoved down his frustrations, he had a duty as a Warden. Kallian had asked for his presence, and so he would serve; not even his debt to Lady Elspeth outweighed that.</p><p>“So I have good news and...strange news, and I would appreciate any advice you all might be willing to offer,” Kallian began, with a lack of fanfare.  She waved a letter, bearing Denerim’s royal seal.  “First off, King and Queen are coming to visit.  Is that a bad thing? I thought the king was supposed to...stay away from me.”</p><p>Fergus and Elspeth exchanged a glance, unsurprised, and Fergus nodded, ceding to his younger sister to speak. </p><p>“No, it’s almost certainly fine, and fairly expected,” Elspeth explained.  “The Darkspawn menace is settled, so this isn’t the king coming on Warden business--which is the actual thing he needs to avoid--but Crown business. They’ve guerdon and praise to hand out.”  </p><p>“Guerdon?”</p><p>“Ah,”  Elspeth floundered briefly.  “It’s...rewards for service, basically.”</p><p>“....Then why not just say rewards?”</p><p>Fergus sighed, and Nathaniel tried to smooth his quirking lips, while Elspeth just openly chuckled.  Her voice took on a drawling, clearly teasing tone.  “Kally, dear, this is most important to your education as one of the Peerage. If we nobles don’t make up separate words for <em> our </em> use, then how will those peasants know we’re supposed to be <em> grander </em>?”</p><p>The commander snorted. “Maybe by wearing for a day an outfit that costs more than <em>we</em> make in our lifetimes?” She suddenly stiffened.  “Ah.  Apologies, your lordship, I meant no--”</p><p>“You do realize that by <em> specifying </em> me, you just made it more insulting, right?” Fergus asked, cocking an eyebrow, though his eyes crinkled with repressed mirth.  </p><p>Panic entered Kallian’s eyes.  “I, ah, it’s, I mean--”</p><p>Fergus let her flounder a moment longer before bursting into laughter.  “You’re right, sister dear, she’s awful fun to tease.”</p><p>Elspeth’s expression immediately looked so innocent it practically screamed her guilt, and the Hero levied a glare at her friend.  “I’d hoped to get something <em> useful </em> out of the trueborn noble presence,” she chided.</p><p>“Well, there’s your first mistake!” Elspeth chirped, grinning.  “Really, though,” she added, her tone settling.  “King and Queen are coming.  You and the teyrn have just provided great service to the realm, so there’ll be some pomp and praise and possibly a bit of ceremony.  I should think you’d be excited about the Royal Visit?  It’s good for business.  Your mistress Woolsely should be informed as soon as possible; merchants will come from far and wide for the chance to trade with a royal entourage.”</p><p>“Also, you know.  Good for your duties as a noble.  Service to the Crown, and all,” Fergus inserted dryly, raising an eyebrow at his sister.  </p><p>“Of course, that too.”</p><p>“Yeah, I get all that,” Kally agreed.  “And of course I’m excited.  I imagine there’s….lots to do to get the castle ready, though, right, Varel?”</p><p>“Standard protocol is dusted halls, scoured armor, freshly washed drapes, clean and tidying the, ah, highly trafficked areas. The siege means we’ll also need to hurry along with repairs,” Seneschal Varel listed.  “I’ll see to it. We’re a bit low on manpower at the moment, have you a notion on when they should arrive, commander?”</p><p>“About a week?” Kallian hazarded, looking uncertain. The seneschal grimaced, clearly halfway out the door already to begin organizing the servants.</p><p>“Well, I’ve got a lot of bored soldiers waiting for their compatriots to heal.  We can probably work something out to add their workforce to yours,” Fergus offered. “Speak with Marshal Roland on the matter.”</p><p>Tension lifted from the seneschal’s shoulders, and he gave a deep nod. “It would be much appreciated, your lordship.”</p><p>“You might seek out Captain Hye, as well, she’s well known to Highever folk, and might serve as a liaison,” Elspeth added.  “She’ll be well familiar with any royal protocols the king and queen might expect.”</p><p>Varel’s face openly brightened. Nathaniel kept a smooth expression so as not to betray amusement at the seneschals’ expense.  He’d seen the two together a great deal, lately, and while Hye had grown no warmer towards Nathaniel, it was clear she had something of a soft spot for Varel as well. “An excellent notion.  I’ll do so immediately.  Is there anything else you need me here for, commander?  I’d like to get started right away,” Varel requested.</p><p>“Great! Wonderful! Ah, no, Varel, that’s fine, I’ll fill you in later,” Kallian dismissed, and he bowed, seeing himself out.  “Ok, so that’s one problem taken care of.  Elsa--ah, I mean, Lady Elspeth, Warden Nathaniel, would you mind giving me lessons in...ah...royal court etiquette?”  Nathaniel stiffened, and he sensed Elspeth do the same.  “What should I, as an Arlessa, do, so as not to be rude? If it were just the king, I wouldn’t be worried, but her majesty is...rather more formal about such matters.”</p><p>He wasn’t happy about her rather...obvious plot, here, but there was little he could do.  “I serve, commander,” Nathaniel said, bowing. “Though I’m rather out of practice in Ferelden etiquette myself.  Perhaps it would be best for you to seek advice from Lady Elspeth alone?”</p><p>“Your humility does you credit, Warden, but I recall well the training of your father.  I doubt such lessons in etiquette and intrigue have left you so thoroughly,” Elspeth retorted, smile pleasant, daggers barely hidden.</p><p>“Your regard is graciousness itself,” Howe responded, voice tight.  “I would be happy to serve you in this, commander, however you see fit.”</p><p>“There now.  Warden Howe can tell you all you need to know, there’s little I could help with beyond that,” Elspeth demurred, smiling with little cheer.</p><p>“But he doesn’t know her personally, like you do,” Kallian pressed.</p><p>Elspeth shrugged, then winced in pain, which looked, to Nathaniel, like affect more than truth.   “Warden Nathaniel has met Her Majesty on more than one occasion, so he wouldn’t be blind in this. I’ll concede I harbor greater personal knowledge, though.  If at any time you have specific questions, I’m happy to answer them; you know where to find me.  But I’m afraid between recovery and my own duties, I’m rather hard pressed for extra time,” she refused, a little more firmly.  </p><p>Rebuffed more openly, Kallian tried to hide her disappointment.  “Of course. I’d be grateful for whatever help you can offer, my lady. That said, there’s one last matter I could use all of your advice on. And it’s. Ah. Complicated.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>The commander sighed. “They’re bringing Templars.” Tension ran through Nathaniel; he tried to maintain a smooth expression but anger simmered shallowly below. “Apparently, there’s a Templar named Rolan whose Chantry was destroyed by darkspawn. He’s felt the Calling to join, and while I shouldn’t be suspicious--”</p><p>“Between recent events, a dalish mage, a former runaway whose caused so many problems, and a spirit inhabiting a corpse, you’re concerned they have ulterior motives,” Elspeth summarized crisply.  </p><p>Fergus was the only one who wasn’t grim faced at the news.  “Recent events?”  he questioned mildly, easily picking up on the part Elspeth had been most cavalier about. </p><p>Elspeth and Kallian exchanged glances, the commander looking rather awkward. Nathaniel wasn’t exactly eager to draw attention to himself, but it was clear the commander could use relief in this.  “There was an...attempt on our commander’s life in conjunction with trying to reclaim one of our Warden’s phylacteries,” Nathaniel explained softly.  </p><p>His eyes immediately hardened as well, though the rogue knew it wasn’t directed at him, for once. “What’s this now?” he demanded, turning his gaze onto the Arlessa.  “Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?’ </p><p>“”Ah, well, I wasn’t sure I had….I mean, It was somewhat embarrassing--”</p><p>“Because I asked her too. Don’t give me those judgmental eyes, Ferg, I did so specifically in my role as advisor to the Crown, and--” Elspeth cut herself off, her eyes flickering briefly to Nathaniel.  </p><p>Interesting.  </p><p>It was clear she was about to admit to another role, there, and cut off only because of him. That was a rather bad error on her part, not that Nathaniel needed the clues lined up for him.  He already knew Elspeth was functioning as their nascent spymaster just purely from the context of what Kallian told him anyhow.  </p><p>It suited her.</p><p>It was also rather alarming.</p><p>Was she keeping tabs on him, such that she knew his every move, ready to strike should he toe out of line?</p><p>Or did she not care at all?</p><p>“--and, this was for your sake as well. There’s additional context Warden Howe is rather blatantly leaving out,” Elspeth finished, her voice flat.  “Kallian attempted to retrieve Anders’s phylactery through subterfuge instead of just openly requisitioning it from the Templars.”</p><p>Nathaniel lashed in his irritation, which was too quick to rise.  “ I rather thought the more immediately relevant aspect was a Templar commander <em> openly trying to kill an Arlessa </em>,” he protested.  “I’m sure there’s good reason the Crown has declined to intervene in that, but it’s rather important to at least discuss the matter openly, now.”  He stared her down, not trying to be subtle in his chide. Her eyes were icy, though her smile stayed pleasant, but he refused to flinch away. </p><p>“Wait, back up, Elsa--I can <em> do </em> that?” Kallian demanded.  And at this, some tension was cut, as the nobles and former noble collectively sighed. “Look, this job didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual!” she protested.</p><p>“The law is...a bit tricky on this one, and the reading I’ve tried to do is somewhat opaque to me. I suppose the cat’s out of the bag, though. And if the teyrn is to know anyway, he’s your best option to ask about the technical legalities.  Teyrn Cousland’s grasp of law dwarfs my own significantly.” </p><p>“I’m happy to lend my insights, but if I could have less of the chorus and more of an explanation straight from the Arlessa’s mouth?” Fergus requested mildly.  “It’s increasingly sounding that this is something I should know about, whatever Advisor Cousland insists. Considering I technically have some jurisdiction over the arling. Sort of.”   Elspeth brazenly didn’t betray an ounce of shame, but Kallian was clearly openly embarrassed by the chide. Abashed, she briefly summarized the story, of Anders tracking down a lead on his phylactery, the Warden commander backing him up, only to find it was a trap set by the Templars.  They would not back down even to the death, an altercation that only had one outcome with the Hero involved.  Fergus looked increasingly perturbed.  </p><p>“I began to appreciate why you didn’t tell me,” he muttered to his sister, rubbing his nose in exasperation. “As much as I prefer not being kept out of the loop, this…”</p><p>“...Is fiendishly complicated, yes. I was sort of hoping it’d be resolved in back rooms, or blow over, or be swept under the rug, rather than requiring the direct and complex intervention of the teyrn. <em> Or </em> Crown,” she added, a touch of acid in her voice Nathaniel knew was directed at him. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I decline to verify what, exactly, the Crown knows of the incident. Publically, of course, they know nothing.”</p><p>“Yeah...yes,” Fergus sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Alright, well, I don’t exactly have my barrister right next to me, but I’ll give you the best I can off the top of my head. Tabris, it’s a little complicated who’s actually at fault here, especially considering your dual roles.  Nobles can employ the service of a specific and restricted number of mages, but their phylacteries stay with the Templar order. Wardens, however, have generally been allowed to requisition such phylacteries of their own. Hm. Whether or not they manage to actually acquire them comes down entirely to politics and how Blight-like the circumstances; I could bring up the few examples that come to mind if you preferred.”</p><p>“A summary would probably help us most,” Elspeth interjected gently, though Fergus gave her a chiding frown. </p><p>“Well, then, templars tend not to like giving them up, but given the Warden treaties, Wardens do have the right to requisition <em> anything </em> they need.  It’s not clear to me which takes precedence, here, though in hindsight, with the darkspawn resurgence, you do have a case it was Blight-like circumstances.  Still, laws governing defense of attempted <em> theft </em> ...well...Templars are in a bit of a realm of their own.  Again, I could bring up a few examples, but suffice to say, the Chantry tends to lean on rulers to allow them a <em> great </em> deal of leeway in such incidents to pursue their own form of justice with prejudice.”  </p><p>A bitter twinge of nostalgia filled Nathaniel at Fergus’s easy familiarity with a subject he claimed to be uncertain on.  While Elspeth had always been closer to him, he was naturally fairly familiar with the teyrn’s heir growing up. Fergus had always proved a good friend before, and a capable scholar and warrior both. If Fergus wasn’t sure what the answer here was, Nathaniel doubted a room full of lawyers and law books would get them much further.</p><p>”That said, I concur with my sister--your first move <em> should </em> have been to at least try and requisition it.”</p><p>Kallian sighed.  “Yeah, I see that now.  Ah. Your lordship.  At the time it didn’t even occur to me that I had that right. Honestly, the darkspawn have been my priority, and when the Templars never said anything else, it largely blew the matter from my mind.”  She shook her head, grimacing further. “But if they’re coming here now, and want to obviously plant one of their own in the order...well, I guess the matter hasn’t been forgotten.”</p><p>Elspeth sighed, apparently coming to a decision, though she flicked another suspicious glare at Nathaniel.  “I’ve been trying to lay the groundwork that Kallian <em> was </em> attempting to requisition it in the “right” way, but progress got stymied, I didn’t want to tip my hand prematurely, and, well, it’s all a clustered mess right now,”  Elspeth admitted. “Fergus...honestly, I know you’ll hate this, but I recommend continuing a policy of pretending you don’t know for now.  The Templars haven’t been shy about screaming in the king’s ear about their problems with the Warden order. Despite that, they haven’t breathed a word of the incident.  It’s possible they don’t know, and if so, it’s best for us if it stays that way.”</p><p>“Alternatively, they’re embarrassed themselves,” Nathaniel pointed out carefully.  “Our commander is rather popular these days. I surely don’t need to spell out how much trouble there’ll be for them if it comes out that Templars tried to <em> murder the Hero of Ferelden? </em>”</p><p>“That too,” Elspeth agreed mildly.  “The point is--they haven’t brought it up to the king, nor have they brought it up with you.  But once either of you officially knows, you’ll have to issue a response, and there’ll be trouble whichever way you decide.  After all, I need not spell out that even if you end up deciding the Wardens are completely legally clear--you’ll stir up <em> trouble </em> with an order that’s cantankerous at best these days, and <em> not </em> technically subject to your authority. And for the sake of my king and queen, I’ll beg you to not force them to pick a fight with the Templar order--not like this.  If they’re content to play cloak and dagger with it…”</p><p>“Mmm. You speak with cunning, dear sister.  I’ll think on it,” Fergus replied, eyes distant and troubled, though Nathaniel noted Fergus had not actually agreed to her “suggestions.”   “So, that brings me up to speed, at least. You fear the Templars are trying to plant a spy within your Wardens.”</p><p>“That’s the sum of it,” Kallian agreed.   “I’d appreciate any advice.  Which is why I really invited you all in the first place. I know I've been rather shitty about asking for help in the past.  This time, it almost cost me Vigil's Keep, but for the intervention of My lord Cousland. Considering what risks you took to save my keep--well, you’ve got my loyalty, is my point, so if you make something an order, I’ll heed it.”  Fergus smiled at her, bemused, and she grinned back.  “Honestly, though, you need to know regardless.  As for you two, I need <em> plotters </em> to help me. You two rogues are about the most cunning and crafty and frankly <em> weasliest </em> people I’ve ever met; you help me see angles I wouldn’t’ve considered and <em> usually </em> give me solid advice.”</p><p>“Was that a compliment, or an insult?” Elspeth mused.</p><p>“Compliment for me, insult for you,” Nathaniel replied, words leaving his lips before he could think better of it.</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>He flicked a glance sidelong at her.  Too late to back out now.  “She compared us to each other, after all.”</p><p>She stilled, her expression rippling, before giving him a bland smile.  “Sensible,” she commented cryptically.  </p><p>“So?”  Kallian pressed.  “Is it...can I ask for your help in this?”</p><p>“We all want the Wardens to succeed, Tabris. We’ll do whatever we can,” Fergus said firmly, and receiving nods all around, they began to discuss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Arc 1: Confront</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathaniel senses something amiss, and is categorically unable to let such things go. Much to Elspeth's chagrin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p><em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, 19th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“My lady Elspeth, have you a moment?”</p><p><em> Dammit. </em> He’d barely waited until we left Kallian’s office.  I turned to give Nathaniel a polite smile.  “Not many, I’m afraid, the duties of the kingdom scarcely allow for the inefficiencies of working while injured.  But please do feel free to speak with Captain Hye to see when I might next be free.”</p><p>“I am afraid it can not wait for that,” he insisted firmly, glaring eyes staring me down.  He gave a slight bow.  “Might I escort you back to your room?”</p><p>Interesting.  How far was he truly going to push this?  I smiled wider.  “How lucky am I to be offered such a noble, <em> proper </em> escort as a Warden.  I’m sure any darkspawn that lurk in the shadows would shake in their boots.”</p><p>He was too well trained to sigh, but offered me his arm anyway, correctly interpreting my challenge within the insult.  I spent a moment covering my surprise; I didn’t think he’d push the farce so far as being willing to <em> touch </em> me.  I could refuse, of course. Only he would understand the loss of face of getting my bluff called.  But at this point, his complete strategic shift had me too curious to shut it down.  I slipped my arm in him, covering my disgruntlement, and setting a careful pace.  Mind whirling, I attempted to guess how long I could maintain an even pace before the pain would force me to either actually lean on his strength, or I’d have to disengage. It might not come to that; I’d little doubt he wanted out of this situation as soon as possible, so it was worth discovering which bee, exactly, was up his bonnet.</p><p>Not that I’d cede the initiative, of course.</p><p>“Over a week you’ve assiduously avoided me, and now you wish to talk?” I murmured, tone quiet enough as to only be distinct to him.  He opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn’t finished.  “Was all that “oh, don’t mind me, I’m just a subservient Warden” bit in there an act, then?”  I didn’t need an answer to that; of course it was, Howes had historically shown a great cunning in demonstrating subservience to the new power structure once the dust had settled. Rendon had done it, after all, noting how the wind was blowing and defying his father to join the Ferelden rebellion.  No surprise his son would follow his footsteps.</p><p>Not that I suspected he’d repeat his father’s mistakes, too.</p><p>“Were it just my choice, I would not trouble you at all,” he agreed, tension in his voice. <em> Ouch. </em> Ass. “But I am a Warden now, and cannot renege in my commitments,” he murmured back, frustration humming in his tone.  “I would like to know why you sabotaged the commander’s efforts.”</p><p>Having had to focus so carefully on my steps and balance for the sake of my still tender ribs, I was saved from the obvious tell of missing a step, though silence still gave me away.  “Be careful with such accusations, Howe.”</p><p>“Deny it.”</p><p>“Of course it’s not true,” I easily lied, with just a touch of offense to my tone.  “Just because you’re a Warden doesn’t mean I’ve lost my esteem for the order--”</p><p>“Very well, then,” he said easily, as if that was that. Was he...seriously just giving up? For a moment, I felt adrift, wondering what the point of <em> any </em> of this was.  “I suppose it doesn’t matter.”  His voice dropped further. “Since I know you’re lying, and the commander has that cursed quality of actually <em> listening </em> to me, I will be able to stop any fallout from this regardless. I merely hoped to understand your plot before deciding if I should put a halt to it. But since you won’t give me the courtesy, I shall press forward regardless,”  He let go of my arm, then, and bowed lightly, voice raised to more audible levels once more.  “Thank you for your time, my lady.”</p><p>My eyes narrowed, slightly.  I couldn't let it go now, and he damn well knew it.  But to openly admit as much...to ask him to stay and hear me out--I refused to humble myself like that. </p><p>It would set too difficult of a tone for the conversation that I knew now had to follow.</p><p>“Of course, Warden,” I agreed pleasantly, and his eyes narrowed right back. “I do have one question though, now that I have your ear. You’ve been so hard to track down of late, I’ve not had a chance to ask.”</p><p>He gazed at me, warily. "My lady, I've told you I am at your service. Should you require anything me, you can always summon me."</p><p>"But you're right here <em>now</em>," I pointed out, irritation straining through my teeth.</p><p>"Consider me at your disposal.”</p><p>“Have you heard from your sister recently?”</p><p>He stilled, tense, that flash of fear on his face undeniable, and a long moment of silence told me he was holding back a number of furious retorts.  “My sister was not in Amaranthine when the attack came, if you were worried,” he said carefully.  Which...huh.  I rather assumed he’d immediately suspect me of threatening his sister’s life, a mistake I’d wield against him without remorse.  </p><p>Perhaps he gave me more credit than I thought.  </p><p>“Oh, I know that,” I breezily dismissed.  “She went to go find Helma in some small village, if I recall correctly--her own nursemaid growing up.  Preferred to give birth with her serving as midwife, as I understand it?”</p><p>His fists clenched.  His face stayed wary.  “Indeed, my lady, that is correct.  You know a great deal. I am left wondering why you asked at all.”</p><p>My smiled stretched, wide and friendly.  “I prefer to keep track of notable people, is all, and you might recall your sister is rather important to me. And while I know it will take awhile to hear from such a small village, and your sister has other things on her mind, it concerns me that we’ve no word. Marcella Howe seems to have disappeared, after all, were you aware?  I was concerned that your sister might as well.”</p><p>His reaction to this was <em> far </em> beyond my predictions.  His entire body clenched, his eyes narrowed, fear wafting off of him. It was difficult not to get caught in that spiral; my heart froze, worry sneaking through my limbs. What did he know? Marcella going silent of late was about the most concerning possible move from her, especially when her brother Theodore seemed to be more agitated than ever. I’d mostly brought it up because I knew his sister was a weak spot of his, and if he thought I was threatening her, he wouldn’t leave so quickly.  </p><p>Not that I would actually threaten her, of course.</p><p>But if he was this scared...was there some plot of Marcella or Theodore’s that I’d missed? I had little doubt the malcontented Howes were reaching out to those in good standing.  What had they discussed?  “I’m concerned, is all,” I said slowly.  “Might you have time to allay such concerns?”</p><p>Once again, he glared through narrowed eyes, fear and tension still rather openly displayed.  Was this an act?  It was hard to believe Nathaniel Howe would be betraying himself so thoroughly.  “I could not leave a lady in distress. If you will allow me the pleasure?” he offered his arm again stiffly.</p><p>“Of course,” I agreed pleasantly. </p><p>Apparently we’d passed the threshold of what he was desperate to discuss even in open hallways, which served me just as well, as this was <em> not </em> a conversation I’d take a chance on a stray gust of wind carrying.  No more words passed between us as we made careful and plodding travel, but the tension in his forearm screamed loud enough on its own. </p><p>I chose the library for our discussion; there were plenty of locations I knew exactly how far sound might carry, and who might hear.  It had the added advantage of giving me several strategic options should the Howe defy all predictions and try and turn on me; my working plan was to drop a firebomb into the stacks, catching the precious books up as tinder.  The chaos would immediately summon guards and buy me the time I needed to escape.  I knew how he cared for the library, too; hopefully the threat would be enough to stay his hand should he make an attempt on my life.</p><p>The library was old and scarred, though I couldn’t help the twinge of nostalgia when we entered the room. I’d spent many hours here, especially with Nathaniel and Delilah. Kallian was working hard to restore the collection, and it had been partially saved by many of the original stacks having been in storage at the time, and not easily visible to the looters that had briefly passed through.  </p><p>And perhaps it was my imagination, but I could see Howe’s touch too; there was a particular care to the organization of titles, and some of the shelves had been fixed up with a proper sensitivity to the delicate spines they carried.</p><p>A brief surge of emotions filled me, the sadness of remembering how much Nathaniel loved this place, second only to the trophy room, which had been thoroughly gutted and defaced.  </p><p>Maybe I should have some books sent to Kallian.  She could probably get use out of them.  And if <em> he </em> benefited, well, I couldn’t help that. </p><p>“What do you know of Delilah?” Nathaniel hissed, the moment we were secure, shaking me out of my nostalgia.</p><p>“<em>Nothing</em>. It’s why I’m asking,” I repeated, irritation growing.  “What do <em> you </em> know?”</p><p>“What, your spies haven’t kept track of her?”</p><p>No help for that one, I supposed, and no point in wasting time prevaricating. “My network has more use where it is <em> in Amaranthine</em>, Howe. More to the point, I’m not going to have your sister stalked when she refused the offered option,” I snapped back.  </p><p>He hesitated at that, rubbing his nose in exasperation.  “Dammit, Delilah...fair enough. No. I haven’t had word of her either. That’s not unusual. She’s due any time now. But I’ve no more knowledge on this than you. So then, what do you know of Marcella?”</p><p>“You’d know more than me, wouldn’t you?”  </p><p>He hunched over, shame all too evident in his features. He was either badly shaken, or selling me a ruse. What, had he taken some deal of hers? Killed her? Endured a tongue lashing that haunted him still? I stared at him, trying to divine his secrets, but he was using his tension as a cloak of its own, now; canny, that. I knew it bothered him, but the only thing his face revealed was unambiguous and unvarying tension. </p><p>I hesitated. I’d known poking at his sister would needle him, but this was rather more response than I preferred. Time to bring it down a notch. “At the moment, I don’t care <em> what </em> you know about Marcella,” I said slowly. “But I’m concerned she’s a threat to Delilah. Whatever our differences--”</p><p>“I’ll take care of it,” he said stiffly. "Thank you for the warning."</p><p>I nodded slowly.  It gave me the advantage I needed--he was still here seeking me, after all, and I’d made it clear the Templar thing was a lesser priority to me than Delilah. It set an appropriate tone. “Fine, then. I suppose I can relax at that, and leave it in your hands. And I’m willing to hear you out, now that that’s settled. You wished to discuss the Templars?” </p><p>He took a breath, settling himself, his tension draining as well.  He eyed me warily, I suppose concerned I’d yet more conversational traps to wield.  But it wasn’t the former noble, but the Warden I was facing, now, and at the moment I felt that distinction keenly. “You sabotaged all hope of an actual plan to keep that Templar out of the Wardens. All the “subtle” poisons you suggested are the type they’ve the strongest resistance against, he’ll pass such an exhibition match with ease. It’s the appearance of a plan and nothing more.”</p><p>“Obviously,” I agreed with disgruntlement. “Howe, I know Kallian’s bullheaded about protecting her own, but you know as well as I do you can’t keep Templars out now that they’ve sunk their teeth in. I gave her a plot that she could reasonably feel she’d done her best to protect her mages, and wouldn’t even have to lie about it. As a bonus, there’ll be minimal possibility of stirring up actual problems with the Templars you can’t afford.  You can’t tell me you don’t see the virtue of that.”</p><p>“It doesn’t need to be forever,” Nathaniel growled back, and adrenaline coursed through me, fingers twitching for the firebomb.  I pushed it down. Jumpiness like this would betray me. “Just until our mages are more settled, and established.  Anders especially is rather anxious around Templars, and I'd <em>rather</em> not give him such just cause for distress.  Eventually, he will feel secure here, and yes, eventually Templars will be able to infiltrate the order. But we can scarcely afford their direct scrutiny <em> right now. </em>”</p><p>“You don’t do this now, and it gets worse later,” I snapped back firmly.  “Fergus has agreed for now, but I guarantee you, by the time he gets back to Highever, he’ll have an <em> answer </em> about the legal Templar question, and Kallian’s going to have to eat some crow, because at the end of the day, she <em> fucked up</em>, and you know it. Best to accept a Templar now, when her standing is as strong as possible, or the next Templar comes in smelling blood.”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes, glaring at me, considering.  I met his gaze, brazen and resolute.  </p><p>“You make a strong case. So. What aren’t you telling me?” he asked softly. </p><p>I rolled my eyes.  “Howe, I’m not--”</p><p>“You would not lay this many cards on the table if you weren’t keeping the true aces in reserve,” he interrupted me.  </p><p>I grimaced before I could stop myself.  Maker, I’d forgotten what arguing with this man felt like.  Had he seriously lowered my guard so much with his little humility act? He’d barely contradicted me in the room at all, and I’d been most worried over his response. I’d thought I’d dodged that arrow, foolishly believing that my greater familiarity with the subject matter had been a lucky break that would pull this off without a hitch.    </p><p>Why wait until now to act, for that matter?  It was clear his loyalty was to Kallian.  And his whole “it’s polite not to trip over another rogue’s plot” was bollocks. As far as he was concerned, I <em> was </em> a hostile rogue, and such plots should always be shut down with prejudice. </p><p>He saw his moment while I hesitated.  “I don’t prefer to go to Kallian with this.  But I <em> will</em>. And I know you value your relationship with her.”</p><p>“Showing your dagger so easily? Gauche,” I sniffed.  </p><p>“Criticizing my play so you don’t have to answer? Obvious,” he fired back.  Nostalgia struck me so hard I blinked, staring at him. Alarm entered his eyes, and he quickly looked away.  “Apologies, my lady, that was out of line.”</p><p>“Back to this again, hm?” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.  “Why even bother with this whole pretense?  It clearly doesn’t actually stay your hand from attacking me.  You think I’m fooled?”</p><p>“I’m not--” he began, and cut himself off, taking a breath.  “My lady, I’m <em> well </em> aware of our respective positions. But I’m a Warden now. I have a duty to serve. Commander Tabris is my leader, and easily blindsided by roguish attacks.”</p><p>My eyebrow twitched at the coming accusation, but I lashed in irritation. If he was going to make so obvious a blunder, I wasn’t going to stop him.  Unfortunately, he stepped a bit too delicately for that.</p><p>“I know you care deeply for her, so I <em> know </em> whatever you’re doing must somehow be for her benefit. But until I know how, my conscience won’t allow me to suffer her getting manipulated like this.”</p><p>Curse him. There was an undercurrent of sincerity to his voice that I couldn’t ignore, that wormed itself inside me. Guilt accompanied it; how much easier would this be if I just <em> explained </em> things to him?  “I trust in Kallian Tabris through thick or thin,” I said through gritted teeth. “She saved us all, including many who she had cause to resent.  I’ve seen the depths and strength of her character, and know she’d make the right decision no matter the circumstances. Furthermore, she’s the first elf Arlessa Ferelden has <em> ever </em> seen, we <em>need</em> her voice, and we need it as strong as possible. You think I’d undercut her so easily?”</p><p>“No. Not easily. But if push came to shove, you <em> would </em>.”</p><p>Grey eyes met mine, probing, and implacable.  I tried not to squirm.</p><p>“No,” he murmured, a light of realization going off in his eyes that I didn’t trust.  “Not unless you had little choice, would you?  And I’m a fool.  If Denerim has sent word to the commander, they’ve certainly sent word to you.” </p><p><em> Fuck!  Dammit!  </em>My mind scrambled, too off balance to properly rebuff. Nathaniel with his jaws sunk in was almost worse than Templars. He’d left me little choice, now; any further attempts at dissuading him would only lose me faith. “You understand everything we’re about to discuss, I’ll deny and shred evidence if necessary?” I asked wearily, and he raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Two,” I conceded tightly.  “One from Her Majesty, together with Arl Eamon explaining the context.  And before even that, a barrowsnipe from His Majesty.”</p><p>“Barrowsnipe?” Nathaniel repeated, his eyebrows lifted to his hairline.  “It’s an emergency?”</p><p>I waggled a hand in an equivocation gesture, though I didn’t want to openly suggest the king had a rather creative interpretation of what constituted an emergency. “There’s context,” I repeated tightly. “The queen’s going to make it all but an order. And if Kallian relies on that old lie about Wardens being above politics...well, then Alistair’s going to ask her personally.  He won't back down.”</p><p>His eyes went distant as he considered. “That bad?  I was rather under the impression that he held our commander in great esteem."</p><p>"Yeah, well, some idiot had to go and convince him to start taking his duties seriously," I grumbled, and nearly slapped a hand over my own mouth.  Why had I let that slip?  I refused to let embarrassment or shame show on my face.  Let him believe that was intentional.</p><p>He eyed me, but nodded. "Whatever it is, I suppose that’s not my business.  But you know the commander’s about to be caught between a rock and a hard place in this and…” he cut off, suddenly, further realization clearly dawning and I eyed him warily.  His eyes flashed, his lips quirked.  </p><p>“You’re setting this all up so Kallian and Alistair don’t have to <em> fight? </em>” he demanded, incredulous. </p><p>I had never wanted to light someone on fire with my mind quite so much.  I certainly tried.  The damned man stared at me, snorted, covered his mouth, and openly began snickering, and that <em> fucker</em>, it had to be purely affect. “I should have known.”   </p><p>“This is a rather serious matter,” I insisted stiffly, feeling a moment of vertigo.  How was it that <em> he </em> was the one playing the part of giggly bitch and I was the taciturn grump right now?  “Whatever your...spurious insinuations.”</p><p>“I’m certain,” he agreed, snickers dying but still smirking widely.  </p><p>“I would not make deeply impactful, political decisions based solely on such minor trifling details, Howe,” I growled.</p><p>“Naturally not,” he agreed.  “But they certainly factored.”</p><p>I clenched my fists, and forced myself to calm down. “Howe, whatever twisted thoughts you hold about the fatuous nature of my motivations, the fact of the matter is, the Templars are not an order to be ignored.  Letting them have one <em> known </em> spy let in on your terms, when your position is so strong is an ideal time to eke off that pressure.  Your two mages just saved a multitude of lives, including the <em> heiress to the throne. </em>  It’s far better to take a Templar now than when memory fades.”</p><p>“You are correct,” he agreed, his smirk fading, but still present. He offered a short bow.  “Consider me convinced.  How may I assist?”</p><p>I stared at him, weary and wary.  I’d just gotten fucked. I needed to escape, and also keep an eye on this one, now.  I shook my head.  “What will be, will be, Howe. If you want to pretend at seeking my goodwill, just leave it alone.”</p><p>“I cannot do that now, I’m afraid.” </p><p>“Howe-”</p><p>“My <em> lady, </em> ” he interrupted firmly.  “I appreciate that you distrust my intentions in this, but have you forgotten how convincing you can be?  You’re <em> right.</em> And regardless of what you want, I am going to assist in this.  Now you have only to choose if I do so in a manner we’ve planned together, or if you prefer to counter my potential betrayal with no hints as to my plans at all.”</p><p>I almost twitched to my trap kit again.  I knew I had two firebombs in there, lovely flasks full of explosive flames.  Who needed to set people on fire with their mind when I could do it with my bare hands?  I stared at Nathaniel, failing to not glare, failing to divine his intentions, failing to in any way handle gracefully this specter of my past.  </p><p>Damn him.</p><p>“Very well, then, Warden,” I said, my voice too icy to be properly cool. “I <em> welcome </em> your assistance.”  I don’t think I could have forced any more disdain or sarcasm into my tone, but I was willing to let it show on my face regardless.  But he, unbothered, simply nodded.</p><p>
  <em> Damn him. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Arc 1: Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The strain of living within Vigil's Keep begins to wear on Elsa. Nightmares plague her sleep, forcing her to reflect on her time training, if only to find a little bit of good among all the pain.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, 20th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Fire. Ashes. Blood.  A looming shadow that haunted my steps.  <em> You should have saved them. </em>  A leering monster, sneering over me, dagger glinting, covered in blood.</p><p>I awoke with a cry, soaked in sweat once more.  A muffled “my lady!” at the door and I cursed myself even as Captain Hye let herself in.  </p><p>Shit.  <em> Shit. </em>  Couldn’t let them know. Couldn’t let them see me like this. </p><p>“My lady, are you alright?” she demanded, eyes wild, ready to defend me against - what, the demons of my imagination?  No, no, this was too weak and crazy to admit to. Had to fix this.</p><p>“I’m, I’m fine,” I gasped out, making a show of grabbing for the vial of embrium potion near my bed.  I took a swig, the wild gesticulations making it seem a larger portion than I actually needed, groaning theatrically as I pressed a hand to my rib cage.</p><p>“Shall I summon the healer?” she demanded.</p><p>“No! No.  Please don’t,” I protested, swinging my feet over the side of the bed.  Cold stone greeted me, the scratchy roughness a reminder that I was awake, and alive. There used to be a rug here, but I had it moved for exactly this reason. “The pain will fade.  It caught me by surprise, is all.”  Steady.  Deep breaths. Divert. “So.  Door guard, huh?” I asked, trying to sound lighthearted.  “Draw the short straw?”</p><p>A ripple went over her, tension draining, her hackles lowering. If I was teasing, I was fine. She chuckled faintly, settling back.  “Volunteered, my lady.”</p><p>I grinned at her.  “You’re wasted guarding me here, you know. Languishing guarding an invalid. You deserve better.”</p><p>“Right now, it’s where I want to be,” she replied simply, and I smiled in understanding and appreciation.  </p><p>“I feel like I haven’t spoken with you much of late. You’re not too bored these days?  Or pressed upon? I sent the seneschal your way earlier on Crown business,” I hedged, trailing off.</p><p>“Think nothing of it, my lady. I’m happy to serve, and Varel is a perfect gentleman.  We understand each other, and I quite enjoy his company.”</p><p>I nodded in relief, a slyer smile crossing my features. “Hear anything from Lialle?”</p><p>“She sends her regards. All due respect, I’ll not share beyond that,” Hye informed me primly.  “But I’m here to serve, my lady, and you seem in distress.”  Curse her focus.  “Can I get you anything, my lady? Something from the kitchens, perhaps?”</p><p>I shook my head.  “I think I just need to go for a walk. Get some fresh air, get the blood flowing so the potion works faster.  I’ll be fine alone - I can grab Shadow.”</p><p>Hye sighed.  Technically, strict adherence to her duty said she should post someone to guard my steps, but she knew that I could and would openly countermand such an order, and that was if I was being courteous.  “Very good, my lady.  I’ll stand at attention until you return.”</p><p>“Dirty play,” I teased her, surging out of bed to quickly dress for modesty and comfort.  “But irrelevant. Relax, Hye. I won’t get up to shenanigans or be in any danger. Take a break. And sure, that’s an order.  I’ll be back soon.”</p><p>She was too professional to roll her eyes, but I saw the impulse on her face, so I grinned with victory, stealing out.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> “You could have saved them.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Please, help me!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why, oh Maker, why?!” </em>
</p><p><em>No. </em>No. I would not dwell on that night.</p><p>
  <em> “I’ve agreed to train you, as your father has requested of me. But he left it to my judgment. If you don’t prove equal to the task, I will send you home.  I wouldn’t want harm to befall my lord’s precious daughter.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not going to waste precious resources on runestone, young lady.  If you want to keep learning the art so badly, you will do so on your own time, and with your own resources.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, no, don’t just throw elfroot on a poisoned wound-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t want to see you hurt, and this is hard work.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Maybe...maybe I don’t want to marry him like father wants.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No one’s ever gonna like you if you’re so violent, you know.  Won’t you be lonely?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Please, I’m sorry, but, my lord will be furious if he sees me neglecting my duties to take tea with you - I, I have nowhere else to go.” </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The nightmare’s grip on me faded as I walked, thankfully, but not enough to settle my mood, especially when memories seemed inescapable here.  It wasn’t the first sleep interrupted by nightmares since the worst night of my life, and the power of the memories had since both waxed and waned.  But in Vigil’s Keep, there’d been an undeniable crescendo. This was the first time in awhile I’d openly <em> cried out </em>about it.  I might have to start taking appropriate sleep potions; a screaming heiress was a terrible bit of gossip to let spread. </p><p>My most visceral memories might not be connected to that particular room, or this particular hallway, but nowhere was safe, not really. I was all too aware of the shadows that haunted this place.  There was the painting that Thomas used to tease my supposed resemblance over; there was the empty stand that once held a vase I broke.  I’d endured an hour long tongue lashing from Rendon, quivering in terror that this would be the mistake that would make him give up entirely on me and send me home.  </p><p> I kept my promise to grab Shadow, eventually managing to extract myself from underneath my mabari partner. We headed outside, quickly braced by the chill night air, biting despite the arrival of spring.  The training yards had been largely fixed up, seeing heavy use these days, unsurprisingly.  Dummies full of arrows - tsk, what lazy ass forgot to collect them? - rings drawn out with the freshly turned dirt of multiple sparring matches.  Here, where I’d spent so many days, and eaten so much dirt.  I was overwhelmed with memories anew.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Little girls can’t fight!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That was AMAZING, Lady Elspeth! I can’t believe you won!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh, no, I can't learn too, father wouldn’t like that.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Impressive, you’re quite good at this.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hah, I told you, girls are just too weak.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I growled and Shadow whined beside me. I’d get no relief here. “C’mon, girl, think you’re up for a little sneaking again?”</p><p>She gave me an enthusiastic response, whole body contorting extra hard to demonstrate the bark, while no actual sound came out. It was perhaps my favorite thing about my partner - sometimes, she knew how to be somewhat sneaky.  It befitted a rogue partner.</p><p>Kallian had a policy of always posting at least one Warden on patrol at night, and her spirit-corpse, needing no sleep, constantly took up watch in one of the towers, so it wasn’t exactly easy. But sneaking had been too vital to my survival time again. We gave them a wide berth, and stole out the castle walls through one of the sally ports, greasing the hinges and slipping past the guards.  </p><p>I ended up heading out to the old willow tree by the lake, thinking that the mostly positive memories here would prove charm against the malaise. But once I got there, tainted nostalgia struck me in powerful waves. I realized this was a foolish and utterly foreseeable mistake. </p><p>
  <em> “You know what they say, Kitten, fair is for suckers.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about me? I could help you practice.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’d rather not lose you.”</em>
</p><p>The memories I formed here were once largely pleasant, because they were almost universally connected to Nathaniel. There was a bitterness that laced them now, corrupting each beyond all repair.  I cursed myself for being so brain addled from the same old nightmare.</p><p><em> “I should have known </em>,” Nathaniel had snickered, hours and hours ago.  Still remembering the silly young girl too dishonest to fix problems correctly, but unwilling to just give up, fixing them sneakily instead. Trying so hard to do good. Being so naturally bad at it.</p><p>I wasn’t the same girl he once knew.  I’d gotten stronger. But.</p><p>Was he wrong, or was I so predictable? It could be a tool used against me, to twist my arm again and again, like he had done. </p><p>At this point, I was exhausted, lacking the strength to fight the grip of memories, and slumped up against the tree, Shadow cuddling next to me for comfort.</p><p>At least I was in private.  Only Shadow could hear me cry out here. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> 11 years ago </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I nearly snapped my quill in excitement, solving that final problem, and adrenaline coursed through my veins, barely allowing me to check over the maths. Everything looked good - it had to be right! </p><p>I <em> had </em> to test this out. Small batch first, maybe, proof of concept, safe and controlled…hm, I’d need materials. Lord Howe generally approved of my requests for materials when it came to poisons and traps, but it was courteous to ask before raiding his stockroom, first.  Time to get up.</p><p>As if released from my own spell, I suddenly became aware of my surroundings; how sore my back was, that the sun had had time to make its descent and touch the treetops, and of course, the common background sounds of shouting.</p><p>Lots of ugly, angry shouting.</p><p>Lord and Lady Howe did <em> not </em> get along.  It was a bizarre, and deeply uncomfortable thing to witness.  My parents never fought like this, and given the frequency and viciousness of the Howes’ fights, I began to second guess if this was how marriage truly worked, I’d just never seen it. I couldn't even tell what the fight was about, none of the yells were distinct. There were few things outside of her children, healing, and teaching others to heal that even seemed to provoke much from Lady Howe these days.  </p><p>I sigh, somberness taking me, cutting in the joy I’d had from my “discovery.”  Other more important things came first. Thomas would be fine, and angry if I tried to reach out, but the others, at least, I should check on.</p><p>Stepping quietly - didn’t want to get their attention, after all - I knocked on Delilah’s door, entering when bid.  Unsurprisingly, she was curled up in her bed with comfy blankets and a book in her lap. She gave me an amused look over the book, not even needing me to speak.  “I appreciate you checking in, but I’m fine, and don’t need a rescue. It’s a really good part - Princess Allandra is going for a <em> dance </em>with Cedrick," she enthused, her tone a touch breathless. "So it’s easy to ignore them. Unless you want me for something, you should let me get back to it," she finished, tone chiding.</p><p>I grinned.  I did want to talk to her, but I doubted she had any interest in being wrested from her nest, or her girly books.  “Fair enough. Nate’s where I think he is?</p><p>“Probably.  I’m sure he’ll appreciate a rescue, but he won’t admit it, of course.”</p><p>“What? I’m not rescuing him! He's too calm and above it all to have <em>emotions </em> and <em> feelings</em>, ‘Lilah,” I protested in mock horror, and she snorted with barely suppressed laughter.  “I just <em> happen </em> to want to show him my latest discovery. That I’ve. Um. <em>Certainly </em>tested before and am definitely ready to show off. You know, far from the castle. Well out of earshot.”</p><p>“I’m sure he'll be delighted to accompany you, if for no other reason to keep you safe from yourself,” Delilah agreed, shaking her head in amusement.  “Tell me all about your marvelous horror later?”</p><p>Grinning, I nodded, and left her to her book, and made my way to the trophy room.  Sure enough, Nathaniel was there, looking for all the world at ease. Like he wanted to be here, and wasn’t hiding from his parents' argument, wasn’t affected deeply by their visceral hatred for each other.  By their open and public contempt, that they couldn’t even be bothered to hide from their children, or any of the servants. No, the trophy room certainly wasn’t his hiding place, where he could just barely manage to distract his mind off the shouts that somehow manage to carry through so many halls.  </p><p>I had to keep that in mind.  He had his pride, after all.</p><p>He was admiring the proof of his father’s various honors, accolades, and heroics for what must be the 200th time by now. Nathaniel didn’t turn to acknowledge my presence, but he didn’t need to. I had no illusions that I managed to sneak up on him, he always seemed to catch me. I came to stand next to him, patient and unwilling to prod. </p><p>“White River,” he explained, gesturing to the medal, though I knew the story well.  It was an odd medal, for how do you properly honor “barely lived through a disastrous defeat”?  “I think about that battle a lot.  At how brave and strong my father was, to make it out alive.”  He paused, and there was a tremble of emotion in his voice, which I politely ignored.  “It must have been hard, though.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I agreed quietly, still unsure of what was going on beneath the surface. Silence fell, and I realized it was on me to speak.  “Whenever I see that, I think of how lucky I am.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Our fathers made it out alive. Became good friends from that, too.  Means I get to be here.”</p><p>At this, his lips finally quirked, and he rewarded me with his attention.  “I suppose I see that.  I feel lucky too, then.”  I grinned more openly.  “So what’s got you so excited, Elsa?”</p><p>“I’m not excited, I’m calm as a lake!” I insisted peaceably, with an even tone and a pleasant expression.  </p><p>“Uh huh. Sure.  Your calm face needs work, you know,” he chided me, his eyes crinkling in amusement.</p><p>“Ok! Ok! I’m really excited, but I didn’t want to distract you,” I admitted, caving all too easily.  I waved my vellum at him.  “I think I figured out how to get the fire-thingy to work!”</p><p>“Oh Maker,” he groaned.  “This again? Fire bombs work fine as they are.  You can’t improve them.”</p><p>“I’m not trying to <em> improve </em> , just <em> change </em> them, and oh, you know what? It doesn’t matter.  Anyway, it’s fine, you’re busy, I don’t need to distract you.  I just need to go test this in a big open area, and want someone there just in case things go bad. But I can see you’re occupied, so I’ll just be on my way.”</p><p>Nathaniel sighed, lips tugging into a faint grin.  “Elsa. Didn’t your last experiment ruin your spare winter cloak?”</p><p>“Uh huh.”</p><p>“And the maids are still fixing it, alongside your first one?”</p><p>“Your memory is as impressive as ever, but is there a point? Shall I discuss what various boots I have available? Perhaps a scintillating discussion on my pants?"</p><p>I struck with that one, as his cheeks colored with frustration. “Elsa. You also know it’s <em>still winter</em> outside, right?”</p><p>“Of course!” Maker, he could be such a fusspot.</p><p>“Elsa,” he rubbed his nose in exasperation. “My lady. Please consider your health. You’re going to get cold. Can’t this wait ‘till spring?”</p><p>“Paaaah,” I dismissed, waving a hand.  “I’ve still got gloves, and I’m not going to be out that long, and if I’m wrong, it’s easier if there’s snow around instead of plants to get caught up in the flame.”</p><p>He gazed at me for a moment, his face impassive, before finally a slight smirk favored it.  “Alright, well, let me go get my cloak.   Meet you by the tree?”</p><p>“Yesss!” I agreed, and smoothed my expression.  “I mean. Ah. Of course, Lord Nathaniel, I’m honored by your time.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Even in winter, our favorite willow was beautiful. Its spindly, snow dusted branches were a stark contrast against the sunset sky, colors peaking through like facets of a jewel.  The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, throwing its radiant hues to reflect off the lake’s icy surface. I breathed out in satisfaction, breath misting the air, my own anticipation a ward against the cold. I mourned again that the maids were still fixing my winter cloak; winter was so much fun, and beautiful. Maybe I could go skating tomorrow? Hardly needed a coat for that. Hm.</p><p>Soon enough, the crunch of boots on ice alerted me that Nathaniel was coming, though I was pretty sure I could also tell he was watching me before that.</p><p>I was <em> going </em> to learn this rogue thing. Eventually.</p><p>I turned to face him, grinning widely; he looked rather dashing as a gust of wind made his thick winter cloak dramatically flare out behind him.  Maker, why did he have to be so good looking?  It was most distracting.<em> No, no, none of that now.</em> Lord Howe already thought I was a flighty girl who cared more about boys than improving myself. I had to <em> prove </em> I was taking this seriously, or he’d stop training me in combat, or worse, entirely.  <em> No crushes! </em></p><p>Especially not on his son Nathaniel.  He wouldn’t approve, and Delilah would mock me endlessly. <em>  Think of him like a brother. Brother brother brother. </em></p><p>The cold had touched even Nathaniel, his cheeks rosy even as he smiled back. He came up to stand next to me, smiling that faint, kind, smirky smile. Grey eyes watched me, refusing to reveal the thoughts behind him. Curse him for being so much harder to read than most people, it really was unfair.  “Alright, Elsa, so what’s this horror?” he asked, amused, gesturing to the small clearing I had made.</p><p>I clapped my hands with barely contained glee and not at all to warm up because I was already getting quite cold. I pulled out the fire flask I’d quickly mixed up based on my maths.  “Ok, ok, so, you know how grease is flammable but f-fire bombs don’t ignite it?”  </p><p>“That’s, well, I assume a feature, Elsa,” he said warily.  “Grease isn’t just used in traps, you know, and both are usually stored in armories. There are specific, <em> safe </em> traps and mechanisms for igniting grease.”</p><p>“Pah, I know, I know,” I dismissed.  “Details. B-But I was reading about that, and it <em> couldn’t </em> be just a t-temperature thing, because in the Battle of-"</p><p>“Elsa,” he interrupted me, openly chuckling, and my heart warmed at the sound.  Nathaniel was a very calm person, rarely letting his emotions show, and occasionally even seeming on the grumpy side.  But he had a warm and friendly heart, and was fiercely loving no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.  Delilah brought it out most often, but I couldn’t help feeling a surge of happiness to know I could bring that side out of him too.  Especially now, when he had, well, other things on his mind.  “Your teeth are already chattering. At this rate, I’m going to have to carry a frozen Elsa statue back on my back, and you will look very silly. Is that what you want? Just show me, and explain when we’re inside.”</p><p>Pah.  It was so much less <em> dramatic </em> if I couldn’t give it the proper build up. “F-f-fiiiine,” I agreed, teeth <em> not </em> chattering, and trying not to flounce as that was inappropriate. Then again, it was Nathaniel, and I knew these days he didn’t mind if I was expressive in private like this. </p><p>I set things up as carefully as I could.  When it was ready, I triggered the grease, stepped back, and lobbed the modified fire bomb at it.</p><p>It was <em> extremely </em>underwhelming.</p><p>The fire <em> did </em> take up the grease, at least, but the flames were mild and tiny, such that calling it a fire was practically an insult, and it spread over the grease so slowly.  It mostly just sat on the surface, barely doing anything, and not nearly the reaction I’d hoped for.  I waited, tense, hoping it would take up more strongly, but a slow and steady burn seemed to be all I could hope for.</p><p>“Sod it!” I cursed, mind whirling.  What had I missed?</p><p>“Elsa!” Nathaniel reprimanded me, his tone too amused to be chiding.  He came to stand next to me, staring at the sad display of the tiny rug of flames on the sad grease pond.  “Where’d a proper lady learn language like that?”</p><p>From dwarves, obviously, and in particular my old runecrafting tutor, Rida. She could get going like a stung mule when she flubbed an etch, rare as that was.  “Apologies, Lord Nathaniel,” I teased him.  “I feel terrible about making your s-sensitive ears burn.”</p><p>“Well, at least <em> something </em>’s actually burning,” he fired back, head tilting to the sad fire, smirk all too mocking.</p><p>I theatrically pressed a hand to my heart.  “S-slander! Abuse!  How could you kick a lady when she’s d-down like this, Nathaniel?”</p><p>“Oh please. Nothing can bring you down,” he retorted.  “Now, put that...sad display of fire out and let’s go back inside.”</p><p>“Aheh. Heh. Uh.  About th-that.”</p><p>“Elsa…”</p><p>“Look, you c-can’t just put water on grease f-fires, it’ll spread it and m-make it worse!” </p><p>He frowned, looking around.  “Dirt’s too frozen to use...what’s your plan, here?”</p><p>“...k-keep watch until it b-burns itself out?”</p><p>He stared at me, and sighed in exasperation.  “Elsa, you’re gonna freeze out here.”</p><p>“It’s f-fine!” I insisted, chattering, and self consciously I stopped rubbing my own arms.</p><p>“Then you go inside, I’ll keep watch. I don’t want you freezing.”</p><p>“No!  I have to c-clean up my own mistakes.  B-besides, I have this...lovely fire to warm myself with.” </p><p>Nathaniel sighed, and next thing I knew, draped his arm and cloak around me, drawing me into him, sharing his blessed body heat.  “Here,” he murmured, looking away, cold still touching his rosy cheeks.  “I’ll keep you warm.”</p><p>My insides squeezed and for a moment I found it difficult to speak.  Dang cold. Dang...stupid...girliness.  “Nathaniel, you don’t h-haveta” I protested, still chattering as I warmed up.</p><p>“It’s fine.  We can share my cloak.  Unless you mind?”</p><p>I quickly shook my head - too quickly, danget.  But his body heat and <em> nothing else </em> was too strong of a lure, and I pressed up against him, wrapping cold arms around him. “You sh-shouldn't have to stand here forever though,”</p><p>“Hm. Sit by the tree?”</p><p>Still shivering, I nodded, and we walked back to the tree.  Nathaniel sat down, and at his gesture of invitation, I nestled besides him, and his arm settled around my shoulders once more, draping the thick and well lined cloak over both of us.  </p><p>And as my sad little fire refused to dwindle, frozen tree at our backs, we maintained a small oasis of warmth against the biting cold. His body heat was a welcome relief, providing a searing warmth that started in my belly and spread throughout me in a way I was having a hard time pretending away. His very steady breathing rose and fell next to me, and I struggled to keep mine even to match, laying my head on his shoulder.  Feeling him next to me, being held like this - I was letting myself get carried away, and I knew it.</p><p>Dang his Nathanielness, and handsomeness, dang his warm body, dang his welcoming embrace.   Maker, I really was a silly girl sometimes.  </p><p>“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence.</p><p>“Goodness, no. Ah. Thank you,” I said quietly.  “This is much warmer.  I, I’m very silly. Apologies, I shouldn’t impose on you like this.”</p><p>He chuckled, vibrations rumbling through his chest all too pleasantly.  “I don’t mind,” he insisted, because he was very polite.  “This is...nice.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I breathed, voice too much of a sigh for my liking.  “I missed being outside,” I continued, not too quickly as to be suspicious. </p><p>“You’re usually better about testing your more <em>dramatic</em> projects without an audience, first,” he teased.  “Is that why you rushed forward on this? Thought you’d mess up the other direction and have a nice bonfire to warm up?”</p><p>It was a good excuse, but it probably wouldn’t sell it. I had to pick a story he'd probably buy into already. So then, what must Nathaniel think of me.</p><p>Overly excitable. Young. Foolish. Proud. <em>Girly.</em></p><p>Ok, I could do this.  “I mean, that was part of it,” I admitted, sounding grumpy. “Pah. I didn’t think I needed it this time!” I insisted, my voice all wounded pride.  “I was <em> sure </em> my maths were correct, why wait?”</p><p>“Elsa, I’m surprised at you,” he murmured, a building amusement in his tone that worried me.  “Willing to throw your pride under the cart on that story, were you?” he teased.  <em>Sod it</em>.  I tried not to scowl, but he chuckled anyway.  “So why, really?” he asked, seeing through my lie all too easily.  He was cursed good at that.  I struggled to come up with another excuse.</p><p>“Uhm.”</p><p>“Elsa...”</p><p>“Give me a second, I’ll think of something,” I protested.</p><p>“C’mon Elsa.  Why’d you really rush this?  And in front of an audience, no less?  Usually you don’t - oh.”</p><p>Dread filled my heart. Was I caught? Danget, of course this would backfire.</p><p>His voice was heavy with realization, a sigh made verbal. “This was for my sake. You wanted to get me out of the castle.  Away from <em>them</em>.”</p><p>I wanted to melt like the snow surrounding my sad fire, sinking hidden into the frozen ground. Nathaniel did <em> not </em> like it when people implied he felt sad or unhappy.  He was the Howe heir, a man, which was oh so important, apparently. Besides, a proper noble should always be unfazed by the ups and downs, even when it was his own parents screaming at each other.</p><p>Never show weakness, after all.  </p><p>Well, I was a Cousland, and I had to own up to my mistakes and make amends. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be a nice distraction. That it would be nicer out here. I didn’t mean any insult by it, honest.”</p><p>He was silent in contemplation before his arm tightened around me, holding me closer. Butterflies swirled in my stomach, filling me so thoroughly I found it temporarily difficult to breath. “You, hm. You don’t have to apologize. I’m not admitting I needed this, but. It <em> is </em> nicer out here,” he rumbled back, voice warm. “You’re quite kind, you know.”</p><p>I chuckled with relief, using the excuse to nestle in closer to the warmth.  “Are you accusing me of softness? How dare!” His laughter, rumbling through his chest, was rapidly becoming addicting. I began to realize I might do anything just to earn it. </p><p>But beneath the teasing, a thread of worry wormed into my heart. Would he tell his father? I knew Nathaniel would never intentionally want to hurt me, but - well. He worshipped his father. He might not even realize.</p><p>If he was willing to be a little open with me, well. I should do the same, right? I could always pretend it was a joke. My grip on him tightened involuntarily, hesitant.</p><p>“Something wrong, Elsa?” </p><p>Pah, of course he'd notice. I kept my tone light, teasing. Nothing more than jokes between us. “Don’t tell your father such mean and untrue accusations. He’ll call me a hopeless girl and send me packing.”</p><p>A moment of silence. Fear flared in my heart. Had I stepped too far?  Would Nathaniel take offense on his father’s behalf?  “I’ll keep your secret to myself, then,” he agreed softly, tone amused, as if joking alongside me. Worries settled, but then he rested his head on mine and nothing else really mattered. “I’d rather not lose you.”</p><p>Holding him tightly and being held so kindly in return, I admitted to myself I hoped my sad little fire would never go out.</p><p>
  <em> Let me pretend, Maker. Just a little longer. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present day </em>
</p><p>All those butterflies were smoke now, and that warmth was no more than ashes.  </p><p>But who was I kidding, really? Delilah had been dear to me, and yet our friendship had been undeniably altered as well, with letters few and far between, and rather formal and stilted at that.</p><p>I’d wormed my way into their family. And we’d destroyed each other from the inside.  </p><p>Numbness settled over me, emotions spent and tossed out to rest far below the waters of the calm lake. This was life, now. My memories...were pleasant. But I was an adult, and I had to face the world as it was. <em> Thank you, Maker, for the beautiful dream, </em> I acknowledged, allowing the loss as I stood to leave. <em>And thank you for waking me up. </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The flashback in this chapter has now been written in Nathaniel's perspective for Natevember, found here: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333334/chapters/67877062">Nathaniel's perspective</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Arc 1: Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vigil's Keep prepares for the imminent arrival of the King and Queen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Bittersweet memories plagued me for days afterwards. This made Nathaniel’s continued avoidance of me--as if I were disease-ridden--all the more keenly bitter.  Not that he hadn’t weaseled himself into good excuse to an extent; apparently he was quite <em> popular </em> with the hunters, and so was rarely in Vigil’s Keep during the day. But beyond even that, his steadfast refusal to ever attend a meal at the same time as me went beyond coincidence. I was reluctantly impressed he managed to continue his streak even when I changed my plans last minute.</p><p>It also felt like another dagger in an already wounded back, but I should have expected that.  I should <em> know </em> better. True friends, people you could rely on like Kallian, were rare, and to be treasured.  Most people would <em> always </em> betray you to their own self interest if they came in conflict; the trick to good companionship was ensuring your own interests were aligned with theirs. I had a variety of nominal friends and allies mostly because they believed me useful to them, and vice versa. I couldn’t even claim to be a good friend to Kallian right now, considering the steps I was taking to work behind her back.  I myself was not exempt.  </p><p>Even with friends, you never knew when they’d prove to be a snake in the grass; Rendon had been a loyal lieger and good friend to my father, all up until he wasn’t.  </p><p>Thomas…</p><p>
  <em> I just care about you, is all.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No one’s ever gonna like you if you’re so violent, you know.  Won’t you be lonely? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m planning for our future. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’ll come around.  It’s rather droll that you’re playing hard to get. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You will accept this, Elsie, because I’m right, and you know it.  Don’t you see? It was meant to be this way.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You stupid girl, must I do everything myself? </em>
</p><p>...was Thomas. </p><p>Nathaniel may not have the corrupted character of the other men in the family, but he had plenty of reason to look to his self interest in this. In my more sensible moments, when I gave myself time to think, to process, and allowed him a modicum of credit, <em> avoiding your brother’s powerful murderer </em> just made sense. There didn’t need to be any hostility behind it; he didn’t have to wish me ill to hurt me. </p><p>It was a brutal spectre to hang over me, a killing I wished I could forget. But there was no help for it. I could neither regret my actions, nor could I hold his hostility against him, not really. Whatever trust we once shared, our friendship was gone now. He’d thought me so petty and cruel as to delight in the destruction of his family, and was he wrong?  Rendon’s death had cut me deeply, leaving me raw, but I couldn’t deny being overwhelmed by a wave of satisfaction that it was done. I wouldn’t change my actions with either of the two men; wasn’t that a form of delight in his suffering? </p><p>Besides, It wasn’t Nathaniel’s fault that I’d been forced to recall how stupidly positive about him I’d once felt. I couldn’t reasonably blame him.  </p><p>He just--he didn’t have to be such an ass about it. It made planning how to handle his inevitable betrayal <em> extremely </em> annoying, as I couldn’t get a read on his character, motivations, and his movements were largely opaque. I had few options left to me.  </p><p>I even tried showing up to the etiquette meeting Kallian had planned with him, yet somehow he must’ve known, and rescheduled with her, which left me no help but to actually hunker down and give Kallian a quick lesson. She knew now that I was, in fact, free during such a time. Guilt already plagued me for what I was doing; I couldn’t exactly abandon her in her need. Kallian had a lot on her mind these days, and even as we started to wrap up, she already moved on to other things.  </p><p>“Look, if you want to see Nathaniel, just send for him. I’m quite certain he’d come in a heartbeat,” Kallian dismissed offhand, eyes scanning the latest inventory Varel had delivered.</p><p>“Don’t misunderstand, I just want to make sure you’re getting the help you need,” I demurred.  “He’d be a superior help in this. I’ve gotten away with not treading too many toes mostly by virtue of outranking many.  I know, in theory, how one should behave, but then again, I wouldn’t know what missteps I’ve made in the past.”</p><p>“Alright,” Kallian said slowly, her gaze flickering to me with concern.  “See, now you’re doing that diverting thing, and that makes me suspicious. I stand by what I said.  If you <em> did </em> want to talk to him, you, you know you could just send word, right?” </p><p>“Of course,” I agreed pleasantly, having no intention of spelling out to Kallian what she should know--or at least, learn. That leveraging my status and power to command someone’s presence when they wanted to avoid me was a serious faux pas. She’d get used to what it meant to have power and the sin of using that facetiously soon enough. The look she gave me was dubious, so I let my face break to amused. “Seriously, Kallian, don’t worry about it. You just seem stressed, and for all that he’s an ass, he’d be a big help to you in this. I just want to be sure he isn’t letting you down.”</p><p>Kallian smiled faintly. “Let me down? Doubtful. Having Nathaniel around is like having <em>you</em> back around, except he’s under my authority instead of my noble, and does what I ask. Less chatter, too.”</p><p>Another time, I might have laughed, but I wasn’t exactly in the mood. I raised an eyebrow at her, letting mild annoyance color my face. “Just remember not to banter with Anora. It took me years to work up to that level, she’s not terribly sanguine about being teased.” She flinched slightly, regret coloring her expression all too readably. “At any rate, I can see you’ve much on your mind. Did you have any other questions?” She opened her mouth.  “Etiquette questions,” I quickly followed up, voice dry. </p><p>Ruefully, she shut her mouth again, shaking her head.  “No, that...should cover it.  I, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t tease, I’m just so stressed-”</p><p><em> Maker’s breath. </em> “It’s <em> fine </em>, Kally,” I insisted, voice amused.  “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes about this etiquette rubbish, you didn’t offend me.”</p><p>“Alright, well...thank you. Thank you so much. I probably won’t horrifically offend her majesty, or embarass Alistair in public.”</p><p>“By accident, anyway,” I teased, and she <em> finally </em> relaxed, laughing in agreement.  “Well, I must take my leave, now. I convinced Fergus to set aside time to spar with me today, so I better make sure he doesn’t weasel out of that.”</p><p>Her face brightened.  “Before you run off--sparring--you’re well enough?”</p><p>I patted my ribcage gingerly.  “Definitely on the mend. I’ve already sparred Captain Hye--she was going soft, of course--but if I don’t get some exercise I’m going to go crazy. I trust Nalka and Ferg to go just hard enough to challenge me without re-breaking anything. But yes, my ribcage is feeling much better.  Anders does amazing work.”</p><p>Kallian laughed. “He’s a good one.  I hope we keep him. He loves getting the excuse to check in with you, by the way.  Apparently you’re one of the few people he can discuss healing herbs with, at length.”</p><p>I tilted my head, curious. “Really? I’d’ve guessed your Dalish mage--Velanna?--knew more than me.”</p><p>“...without getting his robes set on fire,” Kallian amended, chuckling.  “The way he talks, though--you’re not trying to seduce my healer to come work for court, right?”</p><p>I grinned.  “Me? Perish the thought,” I reassured her, which seemed to do anything but, so I smoothed my expression, and stopped teasing her. “I flirt to get him talking, he flirts to hide. If I were to actually push things and call his bluff, he’d probably squeak and run. Trust me, you’ve nothing to worry about.” She settled slightly, mollified, and I shook my head, bemused. “C’mon, Kally, even if I were such a fool as to steal <em> your </em> recruits, it wouldn’t be that one. I’m pretty sure the Templars would just burn down the palace if he so much as looked at it. He’s your problem, and yours alone.”</p><p>Her gaze sharpened, and she gave a low whistle.  “That bad?”</p><p>“It’s, well, a little impressively bad, yes,” I agreed solemnly, happy to organically lay groundwork for my coming betrayal. “There’ve been demonstrations, riots, pushbacks...I’m not sure what stinger’s in their ass about Anders aside from the obvious, and I’ve not yet been able to suss it out. Something’s going to break soon, but in the meantime, Anders is best where he is.”  I stood to go.  </p><p>“Hmm,” Kallian agreed, thoughtful.  “Well, thanks for your help.  Should I... let Nathaniel know you were asking after him?”</p><p>I sighed, giving her a raw, wounded look, a glimmer of true emotion.  “Kallian. Please. Must you keep prodding this scar?”</p><p>“I…” she trailed off, and rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation, muttering something I couldn’t make out.  “I just don’t understand. You turned down joining this meeting in the first place because you were avoiding him. Now you’re here. What’s going on, there? Sometimes I just want to throw you two into a room and force you two to talk.”</p><p>My fists clenched, and I forced them to relax. I was no more willing to have Nathaniel’s arm twisted by this commander into seeing me than I was willing to twist it myself. Deep breaths. Even tone. Teeth...<em> not </em> clenched. “We have talked.”</p><p>Her eyes widened, taken aback.  “Oh...ah.  Huh.  Did it not go well?” </p><p>I forced an amused smile. This was light, it didn’t matter, it was a non issue not worth spending so much <em> bloody time </em> on. “Talking isn’t always the solution.” <em> I killed his brother and he thinks I’m a faithless whore who delights in his family’s suffering.  </em>“Did forcing Morrigan and Alistair to work together resolve their problems?”</p><p>“To an extent,” she hedged stubbornly.  “For all the bickering, they developed a respect for each other in the end.”  I remembered differently, but then I hadn’t been with them for their whole journey.  “If people just worked together and <em> talked </em> about their problems, they’d learn they’re not so different. That maybe-”</p><p><em> Maker’s breath, save me from heroes who think they can fix everything with just a little meddling.  </em> I cut her off with laughter, and it did not at all sound forced, or bitter, or angry, or any of the wild emotions I was having trouble settling beneath my lake of calm. My voice was perhaps a touch wild when I stopped laughing to speak. “So try that with Anders and the Templars.”  <em> Hypocrite. </em></p><p>She looked at me, stunned.  “There’s….a point,” she mulled slowly, and I raised an eyebrow.  </p><p>If it was going to have been that easy, I’d almost be cross.  No, no, that’d be petty. It was better not to stab a friend in the back.</p><p>Even if it did mean all my plotting and lies had gone to waste.</p><p>“Sorry. You were leaving. But. I take it that’s a no on Nathaniel, then,” she finished.</p><p>“Nathaniel is free to seek me out if he so desires,” I said firmly.  “And should I require his presence, I will summon it. But do not trouble him on my account.”</p><p>“....good enough, I suppose,” Kallian finally relented, and seeing my window, I bid my farewell and fled.  I was glad sparring was next on my schedule; I really needed something to <em> hit. </em> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Soon enough the day arrived, with as much fanfare and bluster as one could expect.  There would naturally be a banquet tomorrow, and what felt like a million recalcitrant details all vied for attention, even as we were attempting to properly form up the welcoming precession. And as we bustled about in the courtyard, arranging last minute details with the royal arrival imminent, one showed up that I <em> hadn’t </em> expected, as he was supposed to be laid up in bed.</p><p>Nathaniel walked up, ready to arrange himself faithfully into the order Varel had worked so hard on.  I didn’t stiffen when he approached, but my eyes certainly narrowed. </p><p>“Afternoon, Warden,” I greeted him pleasantly, arresting his attempt to just <em> walk by </em> me.  “You’re in good health?”</p><p>“A minor spot of trouble this morning,” he demurred, pausing his progress.  “But it was easy to recover from.”</p><p><em> Dammit. </em> I hesitated as we glared at each other.</p><p>“Trenton’s Vertigo, <em> really? </em>” he growled at me in undertone. “That was entirely unnecessary.”</p><p>Alright, so, the annoyance was fair. It <em> had </em> been the most insulting poison I could use, as its effects were limited largely to vertigo and dizziness, making it difficult to convince others you weren’t just fainty and weak, behavior unbefitting a proper hardy Ferelden.  Orlesians supposedly used it on <em> purpose </em> at the more daring parties, because they were poofy twits. </p><p>I could deny it, of course, but it was easy to converse with our voices low enough that no one would hear it, and he’d never believe me anyway. “If you’re going to continue to insist you want to help me, then <em> stay out of my way. </em> How’d you recover, anyway?” I hissed back. “Your stocks are tragically out of wolfberries.”</p><p>“Oh, were you not aware? Silk tassel can be made to work just as well and I still have some from Starkhaven,” he shot back.  Well, <em> shit. </em> He didn’t even have to be lying, I was entirely unfamiliar with Starkhaven flora. It didn’t surprise me there’d be an alternative remedy. “How’d you dose me, anyway? I’m quite careful in what I consume.”</p><p>I smiled widely, pleasantly.  “Sure, I’ll just tell you that, and perhaps all the weak spots in my armor, and where I sleep.”</p><p>“I already know where you sleep, and-” he cut himself off, growling in frustration.  “Lady Elspeth, I’m not your enemy.”</p><p>I snorted.  “Well, then, let’s just embrace like the best of friends we surely are.”</p><p>Something ugly flickered in his expression and he looked away to mask it, clenching his fists, firing up my nerves.  “Regardless, I have a duty to the Wardens. I won’t let you keep me from it.”</p><p>“And I have a duty to Ferelden. I won’t let you stop me.”</p><p>His voice was getting heated; I was under his skin. “I have no--”</p><p>“Nathaniel! Glad you could make it after all,” Kallian’s voice cut in, wandering over to us.  Her glance flickered between us, concern filling her eyes.  “Things are...alright, here?”</p><p>I smiled beatifically at her.  “Perfectly fine, Kally, just debating some last minute etiquette. Minor quibble, really, Warden Howe is likely correct that the planned wording is fine as is. All ready? They should be here quite soon, according to the scouts.”</p><p>She looked dubious at my denial, but as Nathaniel simply nodded, suspiciously backing me up, she seemed willing to let the matter drop, excitement filling her expression.  “Yup!  I think we’re all good to go.  Oh, and, I’ll be making some last minute changes-”  The two of us stiffened.  “But don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”</p><p>“That’s not reassuring--”</p><p>“I’m more worried now--”</p><p>Nathaniel and I cut off, and I scowled at him, while Kallian just burst into laughter.  “Like peas in a pod,” she teased, and a sharp and genuine <em> anger </em>filled me that I struggled to master and hide.  Did she have to keep prodding this wound?</p><p>“You really must stop insulting the heiress to the throne like this, commander,” Nathaniel rumbled, sinking the dagger in further, as I knew he could read the anger I was barely hiding. “We are nothing alike.”</p><p>Maker, that <em> asshole </em> .  So eager to distance himself from being associated with me, so disturbed at the comparison.  “Never mind that,” I breathed, trying to sound pleasant, trying to smile. “I trust you to do the right thing, Kallian, regardless of the <em> consequences </em>.”  </p><p>Her expression sobered.  “Thank you,” she agreed, apparently utterly ignoring the chide. “I’ll certainly try.”  And with that ambiguous statement, she sauntered off, head held high.</p><p>“Ominous,” I remarked, under my breath. </p><p>“Indeed,” Nathaniel agreed, and I shot him an annoyed sidelong look. </p><p>“Was there anything else you needed, Warden?”  I asked, trying not to grind my teeth.</p><p>“I told you, my lady, there’s nothing in this world I’d ask of you.”  He bowed to me, a touch formal and unnecessary. He hesitated, and his voice was rough when he next spoke. “But should you need me, I am at your service. Your wish is my command.”</p><p>I narrowed my eyes, wondering. “<em> I want nothing from you </em>” was easy enough to parse, but the latter phrase had me hesitate. A generous sounding offer, but it would be foolish to take it at face value. What was he trying to say here, was he chiding me?  Pointing out how much power I held over him, that he suspected I’d misuse it? “Of course, Warden,” I agreed noncommittally. “I should take my place, now.”</p><p>“And I mine.”  I nodded, and we separated, arranging ourselves appropriately. The Wardens--minus Justice, who had no interest in such proceedings--were arranged as a ceremonial honor guard behind.  Soon enough, the royal precession crested the horizon, and was welcomed into the castle gates. There was pomp and circumstance and formalities, but all the frills in the world couldn’t compare to the sheer delight on both Alistair and Kallian’s faces at seeing each other, a balm over my troubled heart, even if it had all the subtlety of a rampaging mabari.</p><p>And then the moment came where the Templars escort was announced and a stern looking man loomed, introduced as Rolan. With a nasally voice he gave the clipped introduction we already knew; his Chantry had been burned by darkspawn, and he felt the Calling to join the order. Tension sang over me. </p><p>
  <em> So it begins. </em>
</p><p>“It is a tragedy to hear of your Chantry, Templar Rolan,” Kallian said somberly, following the script.  “The darkspawn are a menace to all, and all must do their part to help fight.  Wardens commit ourselves to facing and defeating the menace wholeheartedly; we can accept nothing less. The life of a Warden is no easy task, and you must be prepared to sever all your former ties and commitments to join us. And so I ask--are you willing to do so, to set former loyalties and bonds aside, and letting nothing take precedence over defeating the darkspawn?”</p><p>His lips thinned, but he nodded.  “I am, Warden-Commander. I allow myself no hesitation in my calling. I joined the Templars to face evil and protect the innocent.  That such a calling has brought me now to the Wardens will not make me turn back.”</p><p>The statement brought chills down my spine, and they weren’t pleasant.  </p><p>Kallian nodded.  “Very well then.  In times of peace, Wardens have traditionally gone through a series of exhibition matches to demonstrate their candidacy before we call them Warden-recruits. Such matches are often dangerous. However-”</p><p>I stiffened, and I could sense Nathaniel’s tension as well--was this a surprise to him, then?  Kallian was about to go off script, dammit all, did she have to upset the chessboard now?</p><p>“-I think considering how critical King Alistair was to defeating the Blight--” the man in question perked up, flickering me a questioning glance I couldn’t respond to. “-it’s clear the Templars have already proven to train warriors competently and capably. So if you’re comfortable, we’ll name you Warden-recruit right away, and give you a few days to settle in and get your bearings, and meet the other Wardens.  If you’re still ready and willing to join us in a week, then we’d welcome you in our number.”  </p><p>I very nearly gaped at her, my expression rippling from smoothness, while Anders openly squawked, though Nathaniel quickly hushed him with a glare. This <em> wasn’t </em> the plan.  Anora and Alistair were both beaming, and Anora gave me a grateful, subtle nod, but how could I accept that?  How did this even happen?  I was trying not to stare or flounder, but--what was happening, was Kallian roguishly plotting?  Pretend to accept him then <em> murder </em> him in secret?  </p><p>The rest of the formalities passed in a blur as my mind whirled, and I was nearly absent minded by the time we could finally close off the greetings. Anora, surprisingly, broke from standard protocol and requested that I take tea with them as soon as it was convenient; that was code for “let us change out of ceremonial armor then <em> meet us urgently. </em>” </p><p>I agreed, smelling a trap. Something was up, beyond even the Templar question. Something the King and Queen had, against all odds, plotted together.</p><p>Maker’s breath, how many things were going to surprise me today?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Arc 1: Tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elsa takes tea with the queen, and learns rather ominous news.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland </em>, 28th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Despite that Anora had invited me to “take tea with Us,” I wasn’t surprised, per se, when Alistair wasn’t actually present. I was fairly certain he’d already gone to see Kallian. If anything, I was impressed he managed to keep his armor on in the courtyard before tackling his lover. Alistair had given Anora a knowing look when she made her request, so I knew he was at least involved in whatever this was. But when I entered the room, wariness still hit me when I realized I’d be meeting with the queen alone. She gave me a welcoming, polite smile, changed from her ceremonial armor and dressed in proper stout cottons and with minor fur and leather details--practical clothing, with lots of wolf motifs. I could only assume this was meant to strengthen my feelings of relating to her. It had rather the opposite effect, as I realized now she was bringing every tool in her arsenal to this talk. She wanted something from me. Something she didn’t think I would be willing to naturally give.</p><p>Anora was a politician, through and through, and not above using whatever tool was in her kit to get her way. Anora had attempted to sink us, in those early days before the Landsmeet, until Kallian brokered the compromise that let her keep her throne. And once she was made queen  in name and truth, I’d watched her face her first challenge with mostly politics; metaphorically twisting Ceorlic’s arm, burying his power for a generation, all with a smile on her face.</p><p>I’d not soon forget what manner of potent queen she was. It was not my friend I approached now, but a queen and a politician, and I felt that distinction keenly. A stately voice it was, then.</p><p>“Your majesty, how may I be of service?” I asked, formally bowing.  </p><p>“Come now, do we, of all people, really need to stand on ceremony in private?” Anora asked, arching an elegant eyebrow.  “Sit. Take some tea. It’s chamomile--your favorite, I believe?”</p><p>It wasn’t--that honor belonged to jasmine. But I hadn’t drank much jasmine since taking on my new role; chamomile was preferable for stressful days, of which I’d had plenty. I smiled faintly at her. “I suppose turnabout is fair play,” I allowed as I took the offered seat, not wanting to offer correction.</p><p>She returned the smile, taking a sip. “I’m afraid I couldn’t quite bring myself to steal--pardon me, <em> requisition </em>--the tea, so I suppose it’s not perfect.”</p><p>I chuckled, though my worries were not eased; if anything, they were intensified.  “An appropriate reflection, all the same. I suppose it’s too early for such wanton drunkenness anyway,” I conceded, and she grinned. I wandered again what trap I was circling. I poured myself a cup, breathing in the scent as if in appreciation and deciding it wasn’t poisoned. More out of habit than anything; Anora had little reason to poison me these days.  </p><p>But I’d be a fool to think she’d wouldn’t twist my arm the moment she sensed weakness.  </p><p>Pleasantries and the general social niceties were seen too. Naturally, she expressed concern and relief at the state of my injuries, citing my supposed value to the Crown. Mild gossip was exchanged, and Anora’s laughter at my attempted humorous anecdotes seemed only half feigned.  <em> We are old friends, you and I, and in this together </em>, she wanted me to feel. </p><p>A board laid out.</p><p>“Your letter arrived in time that we were able to procure the books you requested before departing,” Anora hummed.  </p><p>My smile widened; I was truly pleased, and didn’t mind if she knew. It was clear, though, she wanted to remind me of the favor she’d done. “Yes, I saw. I’ve given instructions that those be added into the Vigil’s Keep collection; the matter is being seen to even now.”</p><p>“May I ask what they’re for?”</p><p>I gave a nonchalant laugh. “Arlessa Tabris has her hands full these days, and knows her weaknesses. I thought an expanded collection would serve her well, to give her references to consult, so she need not wait on responses from me or Teyrn Cousland.”</p><p>Her eyebrow quirked slightly. “And quite specifically the late Lady Howe’s herb compendium? Your <em> personal </em>copy?”</p><p>My face stayed smooth. “I scarcely need it any more; its contents are well known to me. It’s more useful in Amaranthine, as it has a better overlap with the available flora around here. She has access to healer mages, of course, but more sources of mundane healing would not go amiss in a castle still recovering from a siege.”</p><p>She nodded, pretending to accept that. “Well, I’m pleased we were able to bring them. I’m sure the...Arlessa will benefit from such a generous donation.”</p><p>My smile stayed pleasant, wondering why she was digging at this thread; her slight pause had been too notable to be an accident. “I’ve no doubt of that.”</p><p>“She’s done much good since taking the role, despite her humble upbringing. But she is undeniably a clever woman, and willing to learn some of the <em> intricacies </em>of being a noble. That, or listens to her good friend.” I gave a polite chuckle, but would not take that bait. “And for that, I must first congratulate you. It is good that Arlessa Tabris was so willing to take a Templar into her order, despite that she might have reason to distrust their intentions.”</p><p>I frowned thoughtfully; she was probing to see what I knew, and what I’d share. I still couldn’t take credit for Kallian’s change of heart, but neither would I deny it. “I, too, am relieved this first challenge was faced, but I wouldn’t call it settled yet,” I cautioned her. “Kallian protects her own like a mother bear, and if that Templar reveals himself as a threat, then nothing in the world will stay her hand.”</p><p>Anora nodded. “That fits. But I’m sure the Templar will be willing to toe the line. I believe his motivations to be at least partly genuine--his Chantry really did get burned by darkspawn. Still; we all know Wardens have a difficult life. The Joining itself is often fatal, after all.”</p><p>“A fact which isn’t supposed to be widely known,” I reminded her gently, as she’d received a rather terse letter from Weisshaupt following her loose tongue at the Landsmeet. She’d taken it to heart; Anora wasn’t cocky enough to openly snub the Warden order. Not when they had so recently saved Ferelden, after all, and we still relied on their presence and goodwill to encourage other nations to keep sending us relief. “The Templars may not know that.”</p><p>Anora chuckled faintly. “But it’s not uncommon, and we’ll be able to provide them plenty of examples to convince them it isn’t foul play, should they raise a fuss.” She paused, her eyes distant for a moment, taking a sip of her tea. “Cailan is the one who told me, you know.  Apparently he’d once taken it into his head to join them and remain a king; it was the only way to stave off his recruitment.” A glimmer of true sadness entered her eye; she’d loved her first husband.</p><p>“Maker rest his soul,” I intoned with a sigh, and she nodded her thanks. The hook was clear, now.  It would only be courteous to tug it. “And yet, now we have a Warden king all the same.”</p><p>“A king who happens to have once been a Warden, yes,” she corrected me gently, and set down her teacup. “I must ask--how much are you aware of what happens to Wardens once they are Joined?”</p><p>“The Wardens guard their secrecy jealously,” I replied cautiously. “Considering only Warden intervention has ever managed to stop a Blight, they’ve earned the right to hide their cards. I respect their order, and have not attempted to pry.”</p><p>Anora met my gaze, implacable. “Nevertheless, you must know some things; if nothing else, you’ve fought at their side, and lived in the Warden’s Keep for almost a month, now. I ask with reason, Elsa.”</p><p>My eyes narrowed slightly. Was this a test? Prove my utility? My voice took on a more clipped cadence, appropriate for a spymaster reporting to her queen. “The benefits are well rumored and many seem quite based in fact; Wardens can sense darkspawn, and to a limited extent, each other. Conversely, darkspawn can do the same, and I can confirm they are drawn to Wardens in any kind of battle, whether or not an archdemon leads them. Darkspawn clearly regard Grey Wardens as their greatest threat, and prioritize accordingly; I found it difficult to maintain their attention otherwise, relying on trickery and enhancements. Wardens possess minor enhancement to senses and abilities. Their stamina and recovery is quite legendary; even mages benefit, though less so. Apparently the warriors and even some rogues can run for days without needing rest or sleep. I presume this stamina is in part supported by their increased appetite.” I paused, tapping my cup thoughtfully. “I rarely hear of old Wardens, but I know of one notable exception, so I presume that’s just a consequence of their dangerous lifestyle.” </p><p>“ ‘I’ve not attempted to pry,’ was it?” Anora teased me faintly. </p><p>My lips quirked. “I can’t help putting together the pieces when they’re cast before me; poor advisor I’d make otherwise.”</p><p>“So you know nothing of the...reproductive element?”</p><p>I blinked, staring at her, feeling my cheeks heat. Was that what this was, a prelude for Anora wanting to talk about her new <em> sex life? </em> Maker help me, this was not the trap I was expecting, and I almost wished for anything else. She must know how little I wanted to gossip about her sharing a bed with my best friend’s lover. “Warden stamina and recovery is legendary,” I repeated stiffly, mortified to be in this position. “But I’m sure you’d know more than me.” </p><p>Anora’s cheeks colored as well. “I meant,” she began, her voice a touch heated, before taking a sip to calm down. “Warden conception.”</p><p>Dark feelings gripped me, as I saw where this was leading. “Warden children exist, but are uncommon,” I murmured slowly. “I’d assumed more as a function of their mobile lifestyle. They have well connected supply networks; it’s not difficult for them to ensure access to witherstalk sap. It’s not a lifestyle many would choose to raise a child into.”</p><p>“It’s more than that,” she said quietly, confirming my fears. “Wardens have <em> great </em> difficulty conceiving. Apparently this is exacerbated the longer they’ve been inducted. As near as we can conclude, Alistair only has a few years of even possible fertility left.”</p><p>“Oh Maker,” I breathed, staring down at my teacup, walls closing in around me. Unbidden, I began suddenly aware of every possible exit the room allowed me. Jumping out the second story window was looking extremely attractive.</p><p>“And of course, you know I always had...difficulty conceiving with Cailan,” she continued, inexorably, and was the tea poisoned after all? Maker, it was so hard to breathe. “I’ve had every trusted physician, mage, and healer I could check. The chance that we might conceive together is so remote it would be fantasy to consider otherwise.”</p><p>“So adopt,” I breathed out harshly.  </p><p>“Lady Elspeth-”</p><p>“Or wait for Ferg to have a kid, he’s far too romantic to be single long-”</p><p>“Elsa-”</p><p>“Maker’s breath, do you know how eligible he is?!” I demanded, voice raising nearly an octave. </p><p>“Elsa!” she snapped firmly, centering my attention by grabbing my wrist. “Stop this. <em> You are our heiress. </em>Reality is what it is, we cannot ignore it. You think I like knowing that no matter how much good I do for my kingdom, some part of the rumors will always consider me the failure for not producing, rather than sharing that burden with my husband?”</p><p>“Adopt,” I repeated stubbornly.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed, anger burning within them.  “And what would that accomplish, Elsa? Should I steal a child of one of the noble houses? You know how much the old, powerful nobility craves <em> bloodline </em> continuity. It’s why you thought a Thierin bastard of Marric’s was preferable to the newly risen Mac Tir name, was it not?”  </p><p>I openly flinched, then, as if slapped.  “That is <em> beneath </em> you, Anora,” I hissed.  </p><p>Taken aback, she looked away quickly. “Yes. It was. You have my regrets,” she said quietly.  “Alistair is a good man, and a good king, and I thank you for helping me see that.”</p><p>It was a kind moment, and supposed to settle me, but it did anything but. “Your questionable loyalty to your father who’d betrayed the Wardens and minimized the Blight, and, oh yes, <em> continued to work with Rendon despite knowing what a monster he was </em> --well, that was also <em> something </em> of a weight on the scale,” I snarled.</p><p>“Peace, Elsa,” she said wearily, unable to meet my eyes. “Please. I didn’t come here to pick a fight.”  </p><p>She wanted reflection, I’d give her dark, bitter reflection. “Well, you’re doing a poor job of showing it. What is this now, attack me because I <em> threaten </em> you? I’m the heiress, come to usurp your place?” </p><p>She met my eyes then, and they burned coldly, a dark fury in them unlike I’d seen in a long while. “Don’t you <em> dare </em> think so lowly of me. <em> I haven’t forgotten that night, Elsa </em>.” Memories flashed at me. Burning, ashes. A looming monster. Tainted air. So much blood.</p><p>I started back, breaking eye contact, emotions swirling within me I couldn’t contain. Unbidden, tears lept to my eyes, and Anora pressed a handkerchief in my hand while pretending to fix herself another cup.  </p><p>“Strange as it may seem,” Anora murmured after a long moment. “I trust you in this. You must know that. If you wanted to rule, we both know you’d be doing so already. And for all that we’ve been through, I--I consider you a friend. One of the few friends I have.”</p><p>“Friends betray you,” I murmured quietly, unable to meet her eyes.</p><p>“Yes,” she agreed, a cold relief to hear, instead of the optimistic platitudes of the Hero, who thought her own indomitable, paragon nature wasn’t unique. “But at least I know you’d betray me for the good of Ferelden. And that, I find comfort in.”</p><p>I breathed out slowly, trying to settle myself. I was raw, scared, and jumpy, and that’s exactly how I’d maneuver someone just before sinking the metaphorical dagger. I needed to stop just reacting, to stop just letting my emotions control me.  </p><p>“Anora,” I said, voice as even as I could make it, emotions too turbulent to fully bury.  “You know when I agreed to this position, it was to unite the nobles, and settle fears while the Blight raged. We wanted them unanimous. It was <em> never </em> supposed to become a reality, and the Blight is <em> done </em> now. Your best option is clear, now. <em> Remove </em> me from succession. Do it now, before this gets out. If I end up ruling some day, it will end with the palace burned to a husk and every structure of order turned to <em> chaos </em>.”</p><p>“You don’t give yourself enough-”</p><p>“I know my limits, Anora. That’s not speculation, it’s a <em> promise </em>.”</p><p>She met my eyes, and for a long, terse moment, we did nothing but stare. She blinked first, sighing, and settling back. “That’s not the only option,” she said finally, and dark feelings curled around my heart.  Less and less could I see a friend before me. Only a queen who was steadily, inexorably, leading me to a prison.</p><p>I took a sip of tea, meeting her eyes, and mine were cold indeed.  “Is this where you parade the eligible nobles before me and tell me who I’m going to marry? Brood me out to give you a sculptable heir?”</p><p>“I…” she hesitated, and my eyes narrowed, distrusting that a denial was neither rapid nor easy.  I wasn’t far off the mark, then. </p><p>My temper flared so badly it broke through all attempts to control it. “Oh, <em> fuck you </em> ,” I snarled, and she seemed taken aback. A moment of silence. I’d crossed a serious line, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I set down the teacup before I shattered it, trembling in fury. Through gritted teeth, I tried once more to control my emotions. <em> Could </em> she compel this? I wasn’t sure. Legally, certainly not, but when had the law ever been enough before a queen? Anora certainly knew hooks and ways to twist my arm. “Your majesty. I’m your heiress, not daughter.”</p><p>“I’ve no desire to...<em> force </em> marriage on you,” she demurred, haltingly, a touch of hurt in her features. “I won’t deny, it would certainly simplify things if you were to actually make a <em> choice </em> , soon, and bring the hopes of future heirs. But of course I wouldn’t force it, Elsa.” I hesitated, probing her through narrowed eyes. She was being awfully careful using “force” twice, was there another word more appropriate?  <em> Strongly encourage </em> , perhaps? <em> Leave me no other choice, but pretend it’s a choice still? </em> “Though I must ask. Is there…a reason you’ve hesitated?”</p><p>Where-oh. “You know I’ve taken men to bed, Anora, no need to be so cagey.”</p><p>“Not a single one of them a noble, though.”</p><p>That wasn’t strictly speaking true, but she didn’t know that.  Also, in context, I doubted she’d think dwarves counted. “Nobles have expectations of what such pairings mean.”</p><p>“Is that so bad? Considering your position, there isn’t a man in this kingdom or many beyond who’d turn <em> you </em> down.” Disgust broke through my expression, barely controlled anyway, and she misinterpreted the source.  “Oh come now, they’re not <em> all </em> horrible.”</p><p>I shook my head.  “I’d rather not marry someone compelled into it, Anora,” I spelled out. </p><p>“I assure you, many would be <em> eager. </em> Or did you make up that poetry Oswyn wrote of you?”</p><p> She was trying for levity, to break the tension, and I allowed a snort. “I wish. Being compared to a horse is not the flattery he thinks it is.” It cut some of the thick atmosphere; she even relaxed, slightly. I sighed, staring at my teacup, hating this situation, wanting so badly to accept her offered hand and let the tone be calmer again.  </p><p>But that would just be lulling myself to sleep, and I knew now she meant to control me. </p><p>“I’ve seen some of the worst that marriage has to offer,” I explained calmly, screaming fights echoing through my skull. “And the expectation some nobles have as to what it means.” <em> It is a woman’s role and place to support her husband. As with our Chantry; she is the spiritual leader, and he the physical one. She keeps the household in check while he leads it, she brings forth his children and prepares them for the world. </em>  </p><p>She made an ugly face, genuine disgust needing no disguise. “Howe’s opinions were <em> not </em> universal, thank the Maker,” she reminded me. </p><p>
  <em> “Hush, Bryce. I’ll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won’t abandon you.” </em>
</p><p>“No,” I agreed softly.  “But knowing how bad it can be...I’ll not settle for less than marriage to someone I trust completely.”</p><p>She hesitated, looking at me. “I see,” she said softly.</p><p>Silence stretched, and though my temper cooled, I hardened myself against weakness.  Would she truly drop it, or find a way to compel it? I wasn’t without hooks she knew how to exploit; if she claimed it was my <em> duty </em>to Ferelden, I might just have to set the entire castle on fire.  </p><p>Then again, perhaps I wasn’t giving her enough credit.</p><p>Perhaps the worst was yet to come; she’d only spring such a trap to rub me raw, and make her alternative seem more palatable. I eyed her carefully, and she looked troubled, holding back more, and certainty seized me, pessimism allowing no other alternative. This trap needed to be sprung; I was in no mood to wait longer, to let this blasted silence stretch. “Are there no other options?”</p><p>She sighed, then snorted. “You could always sleep with my husband and try to bear a Thierin child for me.”</p><p>Sound faded from the world, and every concern and care I had was set aside; it took all I had to remain calm, and focused. “Pardon?”</p><p>“I--of course I was joking, Elsa,” she said quickly, eyes alarmed.  </p><p>“It,” I tried, and failed, words stolen from my throat.  “-was in <em> poor </em>taste,” I finally managed.  “The king barely tolerates me--”</p><p>“That’s not true!” she cut in quickly. “You should have seen him when he heard you’d been injured, he was <em> devastated </em>, like someone had kicked his new puppy. He’s quite fond--”</p><p>Maker. <em> Maker. </em> Horror overtook me, and my teacup dropped from nerveless fingers, cutting her off. This-- <em> this </em> was her trap? <em> This </em> is what she wanted of me?</p><p>“It--Elsa, truly, I was <em> joking </em>,” she insisted, beginning to look alarmed.  </p><p>“Of course,” I agreed, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.  </p><p>“Elsa--you--your tea,” she said quietly, staring at me, and pressing the handkerchief back into my hands. I stared down; the hot liquid had spilled on my lap and I barely noticed. “Of course,” I agreed quietly, stiffly patting the wet spill.  </p><p>She watched me, blue eyes wide, face trembling with emotion she worked hard to suppress.  “Elsa, I’m...you...you must know that was a joke. I--it was in poor taste, you’re right--”</p><p>“Anora, it’s fine,” I said quietly, muscles agreeably forming into a smile. “I get it. I just--took it badly.”</p><p>Her hand laid on my wrist, and woodenly I stared at it. “Elsa...I’m worried about you. Alistair and I have talked,” I sucked in a breath, dread building, as I knew, inexorably, where she led me now. “We think you’re working too hard, of late. And that we nearly lost you to the siege...will you consider taking a break?  Highever surely misses their lady.”</p><p>And there it was. The jaws of the trap had finally closed around me, and my jailer stared through the bars, her kind face and sympathy a mockery of the friendship we had. The choices she laid before me were clear, now. Marry a convenient noble, who might slide a dagger in my back to claim the throne for himself, and expect me to bear defenseless <em> children </em>. Bear an heir with the king, my best friend’s lover, and bring another child into the world I could not protect. Or return to the scene of my greatest nightmares, its skeleton a monument to my utter failure.</p><p>Emotions were only getting in my way, and so I purged them. Nothing mattered now but survival; I was swimming among sharks. I took a moment, centering myself, ridding myself of every feeling, of attachments, of fear and anger and pain. I had maintained a facade in worse circumstances than this, and I would not fail now. I laughed, slight at first, then let my giggles grow, squeezing a tear out. “Maker, Anora, you’re probably right,” I agreed with a chuckle. “Between the siege and my injury and being near the Howe again, I’m taking things rather poorly these days.”  </p><p>“You seem in tense spirits,” the queen agreed cautiously, sitting back, not quite relaxing.  “Has it been bad?”</p><p>“Nothing beyond what I can endure.” I set my tea cup carefully in its saucer. “It’s a good idea. According to the healer, I’ll need another week or so to fully recover,” I exaggerated, “But, well, perhaps I’ll make arrangements after all. I could use a break. Is there anything else you need of me right now, your majesty? I’ve a few matters I should set in motion with my network, just in case.”</p><p>The queen eyed me carefully, but smiled, shaking her head. “No, that’s all I needed to bring up. It was too important you be aware of this as soon as possible, now that we know for sure. Are you sure you won’t finish tea with me?” </p><p>I smiled, trying not to let the rictus show, trying to show the correct amount of teeth.  “Thank you for such a wonderful brew. But if I’m to head to Highever soon, I can’t sit idle long.”</p><p>“Of course, Elsa.”  I stood to go.  “Elsa…” her voice contained an undercurrent of emotion. I  met her eyes, mask in place.  “It--it’s really good to see you in good health.” </p><p>My corpse’s smile widened.  “Thank you, your majesty.  By your leave.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Arc 1: Remedy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathaniel attempts to calm down an agitated Anders, and finds himself once again drawn to the specters of his past.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 28th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel was beginning to deeply regret being Tabris's practically official second-in-command, since apparently it meant “take on the jobs the commander doesn’t want.” Tabris had settled in the Templar, at least, but her palpable absence could only mean she and the king had found their way to each other’s arms. So it fell to <em> Nathaniel </em> to justify his commander’s decision to let the Templar in unchallenged to a very loudly complaining Anders. </p><p>He agreed with it, in principle, but he didn’t understand it--or what had made her change her mind.  He’d certainly tried to convince her of the sense of it, when they spoke at their rescheduled etiquette meeting, but she’d seemed to brush the matter off, resolute already, so there was little he could pass on to Anders as to what had shifted. Assurances that Anders had earned his place did not settle him, praise for his work as a healer--particularly in helping save the Ferelden heiress--pleased him, but failed to convince. Nathaniel liked to consider himself a patient person, but even his eardrums were beginning to strain under Anders' repeated assertions.</p><p>“And I promise you, he’ll wait till I’m alone and he’ll find some silly little excuse to try to drag me back and imprison me in the circle again or murder me or--”</p><p>“Anders,” Nathaniel cut in with gritted teeth. “Please calm down, or you’ll play right into his hands.” </p><p>“Calm down! Right! Sure! Easy for you to say, you didn’t have a pack of them looming over you your whole life, waking you up with a kick in the head or threatening you with solitary if you dared to look at them funny!”</p><p>Dammit, he was getting baited again, but such an absurd accusation demanded an answer. “I imagine your repeated attempts to escape did little to allay any concerns they had.” </p><p>Anders threw up his hands in exasperation. “Oh! Sure! Why shouldn’t I feel totally at home and at peace in a cage, I can’t imagine why I’d want to leave a prison in the first place!” </p><p>“Regardless,” Nathaniel cut in sharply, his finally impatient tone arresting Anders’s attention. Did Anders truly think him so inattentive, so willing to throw the mage to the wolves? “You’ve little to fear, in this. If he tries to harm you or take you away, I promise you, I’ll bury him, thousands of feet under.”</p><p>Anders stopped, staring at him with wide eyes, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. That <em> had </em> to be nothing more than affect, the mage was a notorious tease. “That’s...that’s the most romantic--”</p><p>“Please,” Nathaniel interrupted, embarrassed and with no desire to endure Ander’s jeering.  “It’s Kallian’s orders. Wardens trying to harm one another are punished harshly; attempts as vicious as you describe result in banishment to the Deep Roads.”</p><p>Anders’ return grin was sly. “Oh, don’t give me that, you grump. You <em> care </em> about me, don’t you.”</p><p>Nathaniel smirked back, relieved the mage had finally, at least, calmed down. “I tolerate you, Anders, don’t misunderstand.”  </p><p>“And you’ll bury anyone who tries to hurt me,” he pressed, his voice sing-song as he poked the rogue’s shoulder.  </p><p>“Just Wardens, Anders,” Nathaniel denied, struggling to keep his smirk from widening.  “You’re on your own for everyone else you’ll piss off.”</p><p>Anders threw back his head and laughed then, and if he was slightly manic, at least he could laugh at all, now. “Well, no worries then, I’ll just cower behind you when they come running,” he teased, slowly calming down. “Your fearsome glare would scare anyone off.  View won’t be half bad either.” </p><p>Nathaniel smirked faintly, rolling his eyes, not bothering to dignify that with an actual response.  </p><p>Anders' eyes flickered sidelong. And though his voice stayed nonchalant, the undercurrent of emotion in it was all too easy to read. “You’ll--you’ll really keep an eye out for me?” </p><p>“If I can, yes,” Nathaniel agreed. “I intend to keep an eye on him anyway; the commander and I are largely certain he’s a Templar spy. But we can’t be with you all the time. Maybe you should convince Justice to spend time with you? I’m sure he’d be quite...curious about the opinions of a Templar about mages.”</p><p> “Justice?”  Anders made a face, uncomfortable.  “Maybe someone who smells less...ah. I mean.”</p><p>Nathaniel smirked. “<em>You </em> know herbs and spells to dampen your sense of smell.  I imagine this templar lacks such an advantage. And Justice would have little regard for wider ramifications that might stay another’s hands; if he sees a Templar acting unjustly towards you, he’ll put a stop to it.”</p><p>Anders brightened, considering. “That’s a point. Thanks, Nathaniel,” the mage replied, faint smile cracking through, a glimmer of the real emotion beneath the mage’s unrelenting facade of smarm. “I’m glad you’ve got my back.”</p><p>“You patch me up enough times,” Nathaniel grinned. “It’s just good sense.”</p><p>“Sure, sure, tell yourself that,” Anders agreed. “Alright, well, I suppose I can live with that for now. But I want my complaints registered at the highest level.”</p><p>Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.  “And you can’t write to Weisshaupt yourself?” </p><p>“Not <em> them </em> ,” Anders dismissed breezily. “The <em> commander </em>, obviously.”</p><p>“...question stands.”</p><p>“I could, but I think she’d just mock me relentlessly before <em> suggesting </em> I work off tension with more running laps around the castle. Ugh. I hate running.”</p><p>“Now I <em> know </em> you’re lying.”</p><p>Anders gave him an uncertain look, chuckling uneasily.  It still amused Nathaniel to no end that Anders just couldn’t read the difference between his dry humor and his serious voice, and he had every intention of getting as much enjoyment out of that as possible. </p><p>“At any rate,” he finally said.  “Thanks for talking.”  He turned to walk away, but hesitated.  “Before I go, though--do you know what they’re doing in the library?”</p><p>“The library?”</p><p>“The soldiers.  Making a bloody racket, can’t even find a moment’s rest. It’s a library, for Andraste’s sake. Don’t they have any respect? ”</p><p>“I’ll...look into it, I suppose,” Nathaniel replied, curiosity piqued. Anders waved in thanks, heading off, while Nathaniel decided to see what the fuss was about.</p><p>There was the commotion of a number of servants in Denerim livery carrying in heavy loads. </p><p>Stepping inside, he was bemused to realize it was a fortune in book delivery. Apparently the palace was offloading a collection onto Vigil’s Keep; browsing the titles he was pleased to realize they ran heavily to the practical side of things. Books of law, historical books--Ser Morrey’s account of the Exalted March on the Dales? That was a <em> rare </em> one, and supposedly banned--the Chantry <em> hated </em> its relatively sympathetic account of the Dalish side. He’d better make sure Velanna saw this.  There were also Chantry treatises, tactical manuals, a few natural science work, and-</p><p>Nathaniel snatched the precious book from the servant, staring.  </p><p>“Sir-!” the elf protested.</p><p>“I’ll put it where it’s supposed to go,” Nathaniel rasped, his voice thick with emotion. <em> Healing Herbs and Favorable Flora, </em> by Lady Eliane Howe. A thumb gently caressed the cover; he’d not seen his mother’s herb compendium in a long time. He knew there’d been something of an effort to remove the books out of circulation; the Howe name was rather unpopular, these days. Add to that that the author was reportedly crazy, alongside her self-inflicted demise--dark feelings curled at Nathaniel’s heart, and he shoved them off.</p><p>“Ah.  Yes...sir?”  the servant squeaked, backing away and leaving Nathaniel with the book.  </p><p>Well, he’d been looking for a proper enhancing agent anyway.  He carefully thumbed through the book, realizing there were notes scribbled in the margin.  Handwriting he’d recognize instantly, from so many letters. This was, unmistakably, Elspeth Cousland’s. Or had been, anyway.</p><p>Emotions curled around his heart once more, but he was in public. Carefully he closed the book, calmly nodding to the servant, and walked off.  </p>
<hr/><p>If the commander was allowed to disappear for a few hours, then surely Nathaniel could allow himself the indulgence as well. Teyrn Cousland could handle any major concerns that came up. He’d been doing that in all but name anyway, though graciously never trodding on Kallian’s toes when it came to authority in her own keep. And since Nathaniel rather didn’t want to be followed, or to endure any more complaints, he felt the best course of action was to simply sneak out beyond the castle walls.  </p><p>The east sally port was his best bet, but upon arriving there, he stopped short, his attention arrested. The hinges had been greased. There was enough of a dust layer that it had at least happened a week ago, but it was concerning all the same. The gate was one way, so in theory there shouldn’t be a concern that any could use it to sneak in--but if they had inside help, it would be a small enough matter to prop the door open to allow any in.</p><p>Hm.</p><p>He bent to examine tracks; there were only two sets that could even be considered relatively recent.  Light of foot, simple slippers, and a mabari’s paw prints; a set leaving, and returning. He relaxed, mildly.  Someone just wanted to take their mabari out for a walk.  He’d have to alert the seneschal, of course--he could remind the servants and pass word on to the Highever army about the proper procedure for leaving the castle--but it wasn’t urgent enough to require intervention.</p><p>It wasn’t until he realized the faded tracks headed in exactly the same direction as him did he put the pieces together.  Lady Elspeth and Shadow, visiting their old, favorite tree.</p><p>Blast it all, must her spectre dog his every step?</p><p>The tree itself was still standing, at least; she hadn’t burned it down in anger, which was small comfort.  Nostalgia still hit him in waves, wondering what Lady Elspeth was thinking, what drove her out here.  Had she had her mabari pee on the tree, just to express her displeasure?</p><p>Or was it possible she’d had a moment of nostalgia too?</p><p>He’d intended on hiding in the shadow of the tree, but if Lady Elspeth had come here once, she might do it again, and it wasn’t worth risking being surprised by such a visit--or accidentally surprising her. So he sat facing the distant castle walls; the sally port she’d used was still visible to his Warden eyes, if barely, so he’d be able to notice someone coming his way. </p><p>With a sigh he pulled out his mother’s book, wondering.  </p><p>What did it mean that she brought it here? Was it directed to him?</p><p>Slowly he flipped through the pages, searching carefully for all instances of her handwritten notes in the margins, but each looked old, and no new notes slipped out. If she had a message for him, it wasn’t obvious what it was. </p><p>Or perhaps, it was simply kindness.</p><p>The notion burned in his heart, and he wanted to consider it, but it had to be foolish.  What was he to her these days, anyway? An obstacle, an enemy, someone in her path she had no problem <em> poisoning </em> just because the notion struck her.  </p><p>At least he wasn’t nothing to her, though.</p><p>And with the burning curiosity put off for now--he wouldn’t have an obvious answer, not from the book alone--he found himself thumbing through the pages more slowly, remembering better times.  </p><p> </p><p>Sparring matches.  Study sessions.  Long, winding conversations about nothing at all.  Cuddles in the snow--</p><p>Heart beating a little too fast, he cut himself off from that line of thinking.  </p><p>Those were not the types of memories he was willing to dwell on.  </p><p>He flipped through the pages, idly searching, before settling on one regarding the various concentrator and distillation agents that best served to make an elfroot poultice. And sure enough, there was a messy table of nigh-illegible notes, and arcane series of symbols he knew was, technically, Thedosian common, but written in a hand that at the time was far too excitable for niceties like restraint and legibility.</p><p>He remembered these notes.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> 11 years ago </em>
</p><p>With his father gone on business to Denerim for a short trip, Nathaniel found himself with rather more free time than usual. Of course his father had left a few trainers behind and expected his children and ward to work hard in his absence, but they had finished for the day. Nathaniel had gone looking for Elsa, thinking to have a sparring match with her, but evidently she had other plans, as she’d all but disappeared from the castle. He gave it a cursory search, but knew where she’d likely be.</p><p>Sure enough, he found her sitting under the willow outside the castle grounds. Nathaniel grinned as he approached, watching her bent over her task. While normally she was all pleasant smiles and teasing smirks, she had a rare expression of focus and determination, and he wondered what had arrested her attention so. She barely looked up from her mortar and pestle, acknowledging his presence as he approached only with a quick smile, brown eyes sparkling with pleasure. That was beginning to affect him more than he cared to admit.  </p><p>The smell of elfroot poultice was distinct, and judging by the state of her hair, she’d been out here awhile, tugging locks out of her haphazard tie. Elsa was undeniably becoming a decent rogue, by this point, with a particular knack for poisons and traps. Small wonder her skills with herbs translated well to the softer, more uplifting arts such as healing as well.  Perhaps he should tell her. </p><p>“You’ve got a talent for potions, Elsa.  Have you ever thought of becoming a physician like my mother?”</p><p>A ripple of irritation passed through her features, pausing as she ground away with her pestle at the herbs. Nathaniel wondered what he’d stepped in to annoy her.  </p><p>“And give up combat, I assume?” she asked, her voice straining with the facade of nonchalance.</p><p>“You’re good at that too,” he agreed cautiously, and she seemed to relax some. Was it just compliments she sought? “You’re a Cousland, there aren’t many things you aren’t good at.”  </p><p>Darn, there was that tension again. “You pay my family great honor,” she said politely, resuming her work, as if to ignore him.  Apparently not, then.</p><p>“I’m just not sure why you want to learn combat so badly,” he tried to clarify.  </p><p>She paused again, finally settling her pestle down, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’ve never asked your brother why he wants to learn combat, no? Or had to answer it yourself?”</p><p>Ah, of course, this was just her being embarrassed and defensive about being a girl again. He should have known. “Elsa, you’re the strongest girl I know, and you’re certainly better than Thomas is, whatever <em> he </em> thinks. I’m worried you’re going to start catching up to me too soon, and then I’ll be really embarrassed. Father might want to name <em> you </em>as his heir, instead.”</p><p>Quite despite herself, a grin twitched onto her features. “Oh, come on, Nate, that was laying it on <em> so </em> thick. Your father would <em> never </em>.”</p><p>Nathaniel smirked back. “It worked, didn’t it?”</p><p>She giggled, sighing and rolling her shoulders to relax them, before resuming grinding. “Maybe I’m turning into an easy mark after all.  I used to hate unearned praise, but coming from you, it’s not so bad. Flatter me more, Nathaniel,” she drawled dramatically.</p><p>Nathaniel cleared his throat.  “Well, naturally, my Lady Elspeth is the most-”</p><p>“No!” she cut him off, whacking him on the shoulder and laughing, bright brown eyes dancing.  Her smile made his heart thump within him, but he ignored that.  “I was <em> kidding </em>, you knave.” </p><p>“But it comes so easily--”</p><p>“I will bludgeon you with this pestle, don’t think I won’t,” she threatened, waggling a finger in his face.  </p><p>He laughed in response.  “Well, far be it from me to distress a lady,” he agreed, nodding his head in the mockery of a bow.  “I shall keep my praises for you in my head, then.”</p><p>Still chuckling, she shook her head and resumed grinding.  “I want to learn healing for the same reason I want to learn combat, Nate--so I can protect people. And yes, I realized if I were as focused as you get, maybe I’d be able to catch up to you quicker.” She winked, and Nathaniel grinned back, hoping his cheeks weren’t actually heating.</p><p>“I don’t know, I suppose I can appreciate broadening horizons,” Nathaniel mused. “I’m grateful you and Delilah are teaching me this stuff.”</p><p>“Even though it’s <em> women’s </em> work?” she teased.</p><p>Nathaniel smirked. “Even then,” he agreed.  “Can’t always expect women to fix my mistakes in the field, after all.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m <em> passable </em> at healing. But I’m really <em> quite </em> good at combat,” she added shamelessly, finally satisfied with her herb paste and checking his mother’s compendium before quickly jotting a note in the margins. </p><p>Nathaniel chuckled. “And so modest!”</p><p>She continued as if she didn’t hear him. “I’m only fine at <em> this </em>on account of your mother’s superior teaching. She knows everything, and can answer so many questions about anything.  Even when she’s not here!” she added, tapping his mother’s book.</p><p>Nathaniel smiled, a hint of pride warming his heart. His father was of course a renowned rogue, with a great deal of accomplishments and decorations awarded by the king <em> personally. </em>It was why the teyrn’s daughter had asked to train with him, after all. But it was nice to remember that his mother was respected for her accomplishments as well. “What are you working on, any way?”</p><p>“Simple poultice,” she murmured, once again lost in thought as her eyes scanned the pages, and eventually Nathaniel shifted closer to her so he didn’t have to keep reading upside down. </p><p>That it brought him sitting next to her was an unavoidable consequence, no more.  </p><p>She continued scribbling notes in the margin, apparently wrested from her focus and willing to talk once more. “Your mother said there’s a trade off between how fast a health poultice heals a wound, and whether or not it leaves a scar behind. So I want to test the optimal amount and type of enhancer and distiller combination to pair with the elfroot base.”</p><p>“Makes sense,” Nathaniel agreed inattentively, his thoughts caught up in a lock of auburn hair that had fallen out of her messy tie.  He was halfway to tucking it behind her ear before she sat back, clapping her hands.  “Alright, I believe I’m ready.”  She pulled out a dagger, and too distracted, Nathaniel didn’t realize her intent until she sliced her own thumb. </p><p>“Elsa!” Shocked, he snatched the dagger from her hand before thought had traced it, and she spared only a moment to roll her eyes before slathering some of her paste over the wound and flipping a small hourglass. </p><p>“I’m going to need that back eventually, you know,” she pointed out in annoyance.</p><p>He held the dagger further away from her, scowling. “So you can hurt yourself more?”</p><p>“So I can <em> test </em> this, Nate, what did you think I meant?” she breathed, exasperated. “It’s a tiny shallow cut. It’s not a big deal, you worrywort.”</p><p>“If it’s not such a big deal, why not use my hands instead?” he challenged her.</p><p>At that, she hesitated.  “Low blow,” she grumbled. Finally, she met his eyes, expression chiding.  “Nate, you’re overreacting. Really. This is normal. How do you <em> think </em> we test our poultices?”</p><p>It was Nathaniel’s turn to hesitate, glancing away.  “Rats? Chickens?”</p><p>Elspeth chuckled.  “Those too, yes.  But this is easy to do and I’d rather practice on myself. That way I can feel when it’s finished. Besides, it’s my responsibility.” She waved her thumb teasingly in Nathaniel’s face. “And really, this?  This is what you’re going all knight-protector on me over? I get bruised way worse in sparring. You <em> know </em> I’m not a delicate rose.”</p><p>“Alright, point taken,” Nathaniel grumbled, batting her hand away.  A smirk twitched.  “The way your hair looks right now, you’re much more of a tangle of vines than a rose anyway.”</p><p>“Hm? Oh, dear,” she murmured, eyes dancing with mischief. Her tone took on an overly patronizing note, her face all overwrought pity. “Poor Nathaniel. I feel like you’re trying to insult me, but vines can be beautiful, and my hair certainly <em> is </em> beautiful, so thank you,” she concluded, tossing it confidently.</p><p>Nathaniel smirked.  “Both are true. And both also look like a haphazard, chaotic <em> mess </em>.”</p><p>“Bah.”  Distracted, Elsa half-heartedly tried to finger comb her hair into a semblance of order with her good hand, in the process smearing more poultice in her tresses.</p><p>Chuckling, Nathaniel shook his head, pulling out a small comb he always kept on hand. Appearances mattered, after all. “Can I at least fix it for you?”</p><p>She hesitated, hand slowly dropping, her expression slightly bashful.  “Ah. Won’t your father mind? He might not be here but he gave you quite the tongue lashing last time he caught you.”</p><p>Nathaniel smiled faintly. “True. And I see his point. I suppose it’s a little silly for me to do this. Especially when we have so many servants that can do it, and you’re not so stubborn about getting your hair sorted these days.” Nathaniel shrugged. “But it’s just us out here, and I doubt you’ll leave enough time before dinner to get this fixed. And it’s not like you can do it yourself while your thumb’s healing.” </p><p>Was she blushing, or was he imagining it?  She was out in the sun long enough for her cheeks to have picked up some color regardless. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions--especially foolishly optimistic ones anyway. “Oh, well…” a smile slowly broke her features, deeper than usual.  “Sure, if you’re willing.  I’d love that.”</p><p>“My, how much you’ve grown, my lady,” he teased her.</p><p>“Same goes to you!” she shot back. “You’re so much gentler about it these days, it feels, ah, really nice.”</p><p>He chuckled and shifted, gently combing through her hair while she waited, occasionally writing notes on her progress. They spoke in quiet, relaxed tones, words flowing so much more easily than normal, speaking of nothing at all and yet finding pleasure all the same. An island of calm he found himself drawn to, again and again.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Present day </em>
</p><p>A jolt, a flicker, and Nathaniel found himself abruptly focused on the present moment once more.  Something had caught his attention.  But what? For a moment, he saw nothing; and nearly dismissed the jolt as his imagination. But roguish instincts wouldn’t fail him quite so easily. He relaxed his gaze, panning over what he saw, letting information wash into him. Nothing was unimportant. Nothing was worth dismissing.</p><p>There.</p><p>A stealthy figure was slipping through the grass--<em> away </em> from the castle? A thief, then.</p><p>Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed, and he quickly but carefully stowed the book. The figure was moving fast enough that he just didn’t have time to alert the guards--he would lose them entirely. It was on him to stop this thief, and retrieve whatever they stole.</p><p>Well, he knew a thing or two about thieves. And he could certainly use the exercise.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Arc 1: Chase</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathaniel tries to run down the "mysterious" figure leaving the keep.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay all! Working the Natevember prompts took some focus. This one is a little short, another chapter should be along quite soon. I ended up deciding it'd make the most sense to have two shorter chapters than one bloated one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland</em>, 28th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Nathaniel. <em> Fucking. </em> Howe.  </p><p>Of all people, it <em> had </em> to be him, because of course it did, because the Maker hated me almost as much as the man himself did. It was absurd how easily Nathaniel Howe was poised to single-handedly shred all the careful work I’d done to buy myself these critical hours.</p><p>Regardless of who to blame - the list on that one was long, even if I ignored my own bulging name at the top - the Howe had sunk his teeth into the chase, and even as I pumped my legs harder, my options of what to do were rapidly dwindling.</p><p>I always had a few last resorts, of course. I still had my bracer’s speed runes, or some of my more useful but unique traps, all of which would surely get him off my tail. Problem was, then he’d know immediately it was me, which was almost as bad. I’d made it to the tree line and into the forest, hoping to use it to shake my tail. As a side benefit, it would allow me enough cover to weave through that he couldn’t draw a clear shot on me if he decided to get hypocritically <em> nasty </em>. But no matter how much I moved through the trees, his attention stayed doggedly on me, and worse, was gaining. </p><p>Dammit. <em> Dammit. </em> I might beat him in a sprint if I started going all out, but Grey Warden stamina meant he could do this all day, and I had no such advantages. There must be something I could do, some way to get myself out of this.  </p><p><em> Panic isn’t helping, </em> I tried to tell myself, even as fear began to seize my limbs.  <em> Stop that! </em> Yet strangely, arguing with my emotions did little to beat them back, as the spectre of my failure grew large at my tail.</p><p>“Stop, thief!” he called after me, which I thought was just rich, considering only one of us had broken into a Warden Keep with such an intent.</p><p>Now probably wasn’t the moment to quibble.</p><p>Damn, though. That rapidly closed the options of just pretending I hadn’t seen him and trying to talk my way out of this. I had some fire and ice bombs and disruptive flasks that would serve, but the only rapidly deployable trap I had were caltrops, and those could be deadly at this speed.</p><p>Well, deadly to anyone other than Nathaniel Howe, really.</p><p>Hm.</p><p>I didn’t have the time to indulge hesitation. I scattered them behind me in waves, hoping it would slow him down, hoping I could at least buy myself enough time to break his line of sight.  But that damnable focused gaze never once wavered. He must have sailed over my traps with ease, and my frustrations grew. </p><p>Ice was the next obvious choice, as I was loath to deploy firebombs, even in a spring forest. But he nimbly dodged my efforts to huck it at him, gaining in the process and losing me valuable supplies and distance.</p><p>I wanted to scream in frustration.  <em> Why must you keep shredding all of my plans? </em> But I couldn’t risk words to convince him off, as I still held onto the slim hope that I might yet escape, that he might never know it was me. Just a random skulker he’d failed to subdue. </p><p>Maker, <em> please </em>. I’d given alms, hadn’t I?</p><p>Each trap or flask I tried served to barely give him pause, causing me far more delay than him. I tried to take on a more chaotic path, surging between branches and dodging around massive trunks, but his measured and steady pursuit was relentless.</p><p>There was a moment, a slightly lowered density of trees, and fear shot through me. A twang sounded and my heart fell even as I surged, attempting to dodge, but it was too close, too fast, and in a moment, my calf was skewered, white hot pain shooting through me.  </p><p>I immediately stumbled, momentum forcing me to tumble through the forest floor, banging every root and rock in existence in the process. My ribcage, already vulnerable and feeling weak, screamed at me. I lost all sense of direction, finally coming to a stop against a tree trunk, and could think of nothing but trying to breathe once more, desperate that my back would work, that my ribs weren’t shattered again, that my lungs would fill.  </p><p>Wait. Breathing. But no cloth in the way.</p><p>My mask was gone. </p><p><em> Shit </em>.</p><p>I looked up, zeroing in on him, too close, far to close, and he stared back, horrified, open mouthed, his bow abandoned on the ground. A moment of absurd disjointedness struck me, a bitter nostalgia. <em> Never drop your weapons, Nate, how many times did your father drill that into us? My knuckles still remember his harsh raps. </em></p><p> He moved towards me and I surged backwards, slamming into the tree again and tearing a cry of pain out of my battered body. He froze, and the moment stretched, as I tried so hard to regain my breath, shaking hands trying to pull out my poultice. </p><p>Slowly, he sank to the ground, squatting, hands over his face.  “Are you,” he began, rasp heavily pronounced.  “My lady, are you alright?”</p><p>I stared, trying to divine how much of a threat he was.  Shoulders hung, posture defeated, not even looking at me. I couldn’t read any danger off of him. This was not a man who wanted to hurt me more. To take advantage of this isolation and get his revenge.</p><p>This was Warden Howe, hero of Amaranthine, realizing he’d just shot the Cousland Heiress.</p><p>I groaned, and to my aching ribs’ protest, huffed a laugh. Just the <em> stupidest </em> accident. Of course it was. “Maker...Nathaniel….really? Lethal...with just...a skulker?”</p><p>He flinched.  “I, I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was aiming for your legs. Wanted to stop - I didn’t know,” he whispered.</p><p>Outwardly I scoffed. Inwardly, I was a mess. <em> Fuck </em> , really? He’d been <em> aiming </em> for my legs in a high speed chase through a forest? I wasn’t even sure I could make that shot.</p><p>Was he seriously a better archer than me already? I had <em> years </em> on him, dammit!</p><p>No. That had to be luck.</p><p> “You have to - please, my lady. Please believe me.”</p><p>My heart clenched, wanting to immediately reassure him. I shoved that feeling down. It wasn’t his fault, as infuriating as that was. He was just doing his duty. But as long as he was going to look that guilty - or at least pretend at it - there was still a way out of this. I could offer him no succor, here. “W-won’t finish? I’m, still breathing. Maker. What, are you, waiting for?”</p><p>“No, I - my lady,” he breathed, voice horrified. “I thought you were a thief. I made a <em> mistake. </em> A horrible - I, I can get Anders. Will you - will you stay?”</p><p>I chuckled faintly, groaning in pain, beginning to shift through my pack for healing poultices and numbing potion. My ribcage was screaming, all parts of me were screaming, but I didn’t think anything was broken. “Of course. Too beat up to move. Thanks for that.”</p><p>“You’re lying,” he said quietly, passing stressed hands through his hair, looking ready to tear it out. “Els - Lady Elspeth, <em> please </em>, let me help you.”</p><p>I huffed disparagingly. “Think, I’ve had enough, of your, help.”</p><p>He bowed his head, trembling. Then, he suddenly lifted it to the sky. <em> “DAMMIT!” </em> Nathaniel roared. Terror tore through my body, leaving me nearly insensate and shaking. But Nathaniel didn’t move forward, settling for punching the ground, breathing heavily.</p><p><em> Threat. Threat. Threat. Danger. Threat. </em> Air was in short supply, body feeling like it was freezing in place. Vision blurred as I struggled against my pounding heart, my frozen lungs. No. <em> No. </em> I couldn’t - I couldn’t let Rendon get me. Not like this. Shaking hands grabbed for my daggers, trying to hold them in front of me, anything to protect me. <em> Vulnerable. Weak </em> . <em> Prey. </em></p><p>Rendon stared at me, eyes full of grief - wait, grief? </p><p>No, that was Nathaniel. Blood and ashes, what was wrong with my mind? </p><p>“I’m not going to hurt you, my lady. You need help.” Carefully, he made his way towards me, and my daggers stayed trained on him.<br/>
<em> Stay away! </em> I wanted to scream at him, but was there a point in giving orders you knew wouldn’t be followed? I wished I had more than words, anything physical that I could protect myself with. But no. Here I was. Helpless. Hyperventilating. The easiest of targets.  <em> Never show weakness! </em> Rendon rebuked in my head. But what could I do?</p><p>He came before me, my shaking daggers pressing against his skin. “Keep those on me. I’m going to patch you up,” he said quietly, voice sounding distant.  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t, don’t want me - my lady, I have to, I have to help you. I can’t just do nothing.”</p><p>There was nothing I could do as he knelt beside me, taking my poultice jar from me. Shaking daggers still pressed against him, occasionally breaking skin, and he didn’t once flinch or stop.  Maker, did I have nothing, nothing that would scare him away? But with a haunted expression he pulled the arrow from my calf. I bit back a scream even as he worked quickly to tend to my injuries, digging in my pack to find the supplies he needed. Blessed numbing began to creep through my injuries, slowly fighting back the mental fog induced by panic and pain alike. </p><p>He wouldn’t even meet my eyes, but gentle hands bringing undeniable relief slowly forced my sanity to reassert itself. Maker. <em> Maker </em>. Of course I’d lose my mind in front of him, of all people. I was mortified. </p><p>I needed to control this situation, but the Cousland in me screamed too strongly to be ignored. I had to fix my mistakes. I had mistaken him for his father. I was treating him like a criminal.</p><p>That wasn’t right.  </p><p>I spent a moment calming myself. Air was in my muscles. Nathaniel wasn't attacking. I wasn't in danger.  In pain, and even that was rapidly decreasing, but not danger. And he was owed something.</p><p> “S-sorry,” I forced out through gritted teeth, sheathing my daggers. “Thanks."  I swallowed. All I had to protect myself were words, it was true, but was I not capable of shaping reality with them?  "Glad you, glad you haven't forgotten everything about healing.”</p><p>His eyes flickered to me briefly. “I, I have to ask, my lady. Why did this happen? Why were you sneaking out? You’re not a prisoner. If you’d’ve left through the front gate-”</p><p>“You’d’ve never shot me?” I finished for him, voice stronger, finding my rhythm. Chiding. I had to reclaim the initiative, had to ensure he felt he was the one erring, and in my debt. Instead of the powerful archer he was, who could realistically force anything out of me at this moment. It seemed to do the trick, as he flinched again, hands dropping. Was it enough? Was it fair? No. But as long as it was effective, I wasn’t above wielding whatever tool might stay his hand right now. </p><p>I took a risk, mind whirling, plots forming. “I need to personally check in with a contact, Nathaniel. You might remember you’re a Warden, now, and I know how these things work. Wardens aren’t subject to the crown, I’m sure they’ve spies of their own, answerable only to the Order. I refuse to expose <em> my agents</em> to that kind of scrutiny.”</p><p>“I see,” he murmured quietly, still not meeting my eyes, severely inhibiting my ability to get a read on him. “When will you be back?”</p><p>I huffed a sigh, leaning back. “Nightfall, most likely. Presuming my <em> injuries </em>don’t slow progress too much. Depends on the news they have. I’ve covered my absence through the evening all the same.”</p><p>He nodded slowly.  “I see. My lady, your injuries, they’re my responsibility. Let me escort you. These woods aren’t safe,” I gave him a sardonic look, and flickering a glance at me, his lips tugged into a frown. “You can leave me well out of range of your contact’s meeting point. Your, your safety is my only concern here,” he pressed, haltingly. </p><p>“Not to put too fine a point on it, Warden,” I bit back quietly, my tone cutting. “But I think I’ve had enough of your help today. If you truly want to do me a favor as you promised, just, forget you saw me here. I’m not going to be leaving stealth for most of the journey, and you know damn well I could walk close enough to scratch a man’s back without him noticing me. Danger isn’t really relevant. Let me check in with my contact. I’ll be back soon enough.” He looked frustrated, ready to protest. “When I get back, we can talk further, if you so desire.”</p><p>Tension was clearly singing throughout his body.  But slowly, he nodded.  “Will you at least let me stay with you until you’re well enough to walk?”</p><p>Well, damn. I had almost no reason to deny this, and he knew it. I eyed him warily. “If you like,” I conceded tightly.</p><p>And so he did.  Awkward, painful, brutal silence fell, all while the poultice slowly numbed and healed my injuries. He stayed squatted, as if ready to dash off after me at a moment’s notice.  Or perhaps he merely wanted to run away, to flee as soon as he’d done his gentleman’s duty.  Seeing he had no interest in trying to make conversation, I decided rudeness wasn’t a problem, and pulled out a book from my pack.</p><p>“That’s - “ Nathaniel started, recognizing it.  I lifted an eyebrow but I couldn’t make eye contact before he’d already looked away again.  “Delilah loved that book.”</p><p>My eyebrow quirked, and I looked at the title again. Some silly romance novel she’d devoured in our youth. “Well, damn. You’re right.  I’d almost…” I trailed off, shaking my head. I wasn’t exactly eager to dive into nostalgia with Nathaniel Howe of all people, but if he was going to offer me such a hook, I wouldn’t deny it. “She’s well?”</p><p>“Still haven’t heard from her.”</p><p>I frowned, irritated, wondering if it was within my power to mandate every small town in Ferelden either install a rookery, or if I could force courier routes through all of them. I knew the former was absurd; if they had the money to build a rookery they could use it on much more necessary improvements first. Still. It was frustrating, not getting word from small villages, whereas I could communicate back and forth with the larger cities in a matter of days. “Perhaps, once I have the opportunity, I’ll have some nearby agents to check in,” I conceded thoughtfully. “No more than a quick check, hopefully she wouldn’t even notice them. If that’s alright with you?”</p><p>He hesitated, considering. Finally, he dipped his head. “I, I would greatly appreciate it, my lady.”</p><p>It wasn’t much, but it was with an easier heart that I returned to reading.  By the time I’d finished the chapter, I’d judged my injuries sufficiently tended. Nathaniel had scarcely moved a muscle, but rose in a shot the moment I did.</p><p>“Well, Warden?” I asked, forcing him to meet my eyes. <em> Is this when you stab me in the back? </em></p><p> He bowed. “Safe journeys, my lady,” he offered quietly. He turned, and headed back to the keep.  For a moment, I watched him go, certain this was a trap. But he made no move. With a quick prayer of thanks to the Maker, I turned and headed onwards, leaving Vigil’s Keep behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Arc 1: Resolution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nathaniel caught Elspeth sneaking out, only to let her go. Now he must decide what to do with this information.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 28th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel’s return pace was slow and plodding, each step heavy with too much realization. Lady Elspeth Cousland. Sneaking away from the castle. Injured, by his own hand.</p><p><em> Why is this my life? </em> He wanted to shout, furious, but the Maker had never given him an answer before and he doubted that’d start now.  </p><p>But what should he do, really? Obviously, Lady Elspeth was lying about her plans in some way, though he wasn’t sure what that meant, or what she truly intended. And - was that his business?</p><p>Too much unknown. He had to report to the commander. Had to, had to -</p><p>Nathaniel’s fists clenched, another tremor of stress tearing through him. Why hadn’t he stopped to <em> think </em>? Dammit all, he’d even seen her tracks leave through that exact sally port earlier! How could he not have put it together quickly enough? His reasonable side tried to insist that would have been a leap of a conclusion, and not well suited to the heat of the moment while in pursuit, but he wasn’t in the mood for such justifications.</p><p>She’d be alright, at least, he knew that much now. She’d at least let him heal her.</p><p>Though...</p><p>Terrified eyes staring at him, tears leaking out the corners. Shaking daggers pointed at him, desperate to keep him away. Her normal composure and self control, crumbled. Indomitable Elsa. She was supposed to have cheerful eyes, and a cocky grin. Instead, she’d shattered. Because of him. The truth of what she thought of him, revealed in that moment of weakness. The bottomless depths of her loathing.</p><p>
  <em> Monster. Scum. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Rendon’s son. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hate you. </em>
</p><p>He flinched, pace slowing until he stopped, body momentarily refusing to take another step forward. Black despair surged within him. </p><p>
  <em> Failure. Fool. </em>
</p><p>No. <em> No. </em> He recognized this maw of emotions, threatening to consume him. He could not dwell, or he’d fall apart. Or worse, step into her next trap.</p><p>She said it shouldn’t be discovered, but what if she was wrong, or lying?</p><p>If the castle - which currently contained the king and queen - noticed her absence, there might be trouble. There would be no denying it was particularly suspicious that Nathaniel Howe had disappeared around the same time. It wouldn’t take a genius to connect those two in a dangerous way. And if he was suspected of murdering the Cousland heiress, not even the commander could save him.</p><p>She might not even want to.</p><p>He forced himself onwards; pure survival and the desire to not let the Howe name be further tarnished just barely motivating enough. His heart was heavy as the castle walls came into sight. But if he was now a wanted fugitive in the eyes of the Crown, the gate guards didn’t seem to know it, giving him a cheerful hail and beckoning him inside.  </p><p>Nothing seemed wrong in the keep, there was none of the bustle of a castle who suddenly found itself missing one of its more famous visitors. Suspicious, uncertain, Nathaniel held his own council on where he’d been, but headed straight for Elspeth’s room.</p><p>“My lady has important missives to write for the next few hours, Warden,” Captain Hye stopped him, her gaze as resolute and suspicious as ever.  “Demanded not to be disturbed.”</p><p>Of course she did. Did the captain know?  He supposed it didn’t matter. He bowed, politely, more than willing to play along with the ruse. “Very good, then, Captain, I’ll not trouble her or you further. Though, if you could mention I stopped by when she comes out, I’d greatly appreciate it. What she does with that information is of course up to her.” She gave him a suspicious look--or perhaps that was simply her face--but nodded, then ignored him. </p><p>He wandered the halls in something of a daze, his mind whirling with possibilities. So far, then, Elspeth had not been lying. She’d disappeared in a way so as not to arouse suspicion.</p><p>The real question was, was she coming back soon?</p><p>By all rights, he should report this immediately to his commander, and yet he hesitated. What if she hadn’t been lying? What if she’d be back soon?</p><p>Last time he’d attempted to insert himself into her business, she poisoned him for his troubles.  Who’s to say she hadn’t laid the groundwork for a trap if he should inform the commander right away? If she did come back - “<em> You distrust me so easily, Kally?  On the word of a Howe, of all things?” </em> Dammit. Any action Nathaniel took now might only serve to twist him into whatever webs she had weaved.</p><p><em> This is rationalization, </em> a part of him insisted.  <em> You just don’t want to be the one to rat her out. </em></p><p>Well, yes, that too.</p><p>Hours passed, dinner came and went, and his fears and certainty grew in tandem. For whatever reason, she had no intention of returning. <em> She’s in danger. I put her in danger. </em> The whispers pounded in his skull to the point he could barely hear anything. Was he too late to take action? Had he hesitated too long?</p><p>The urgent summons finally came, a stressed messenger explaining Kallian needed to see him in her office immediately. And a calm weight settled around his shoulders. Her plan had to have been revealed, by now. </p><p>And he could finally decide what he should do next.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Well what the fuck did you <em> think </em> she was going to do?”</p><p>“Kally-”</p><p>“Don’t you ‘Kally’ me, Alistair, we’re well past the point of that now,” the commander snarled, a rare fire of anger in her voice.</p><p>“Arlessa, you must keep a level--”  Anora’s voice came in, placating.</p><p>A slammed fist on the table. Breathless fury laced in his commander’s voice. “Your majesty, I am trying <em> very </em> hard to be polite right now, but my close friend just disappeared. I’m about to be <em> very </em> rude if you keep trying to tell me to <em> Fucking. Calm. Down. </em>”</p><p>So. Nathaniel knocked on the door himself, as the door guards looked paralyzed with terror, and a silence fell.</p><p>“Come in, Nathaniel,” Kallian ordered, tension all too clear in her voice.</p><p>The visages of two grim faced royals, the barely controlled thunder of Teyrn Cousland, and an openly livid looking Kallian greeted him. He spent a breath just taking in the scene. Her plans had been a surprise to everyone, he surmised, even her own brother.</p><p>That wasn’t good.</p><p>“You summoned me, commander?”</p><p>“Why yes, in fact, to my great surprise, the Arlessa did summon a <em> Howe </em> to this meeting,” Teyrn Cousland said mildly, and Kallian flicked him a hesitant glance. Nathaniel kept his wince internal; he’d thought he’d been making inroads towards repairing his relationship with the Fergus, but apparently, the teyrn’s stress revealed that for the farce it was.</p><p>“There’s a matter of great discre-” the queen began.</p><p>“Elsa’s disappeared,” Kallian cut in, shooting a look at the royal couple. “We have reason to believe she ran away, but kidnapping isn’t impossible.”</p><p>Nathaniel let his face harden. Now was the moment to play the part, admitting what he knew would not go over well. “When did she disappear? Did she leave any notes? Were there any signs of struggle? Is Shadow still in her kennel?”</p><p>Anora shook her head. “It could have been hours ago, for all we know, and she’s disappeared without a trace - or explanations. Shadow's pregnant and within the healing kennels at the moment. I have to imagine a rogue of her skill could at least leave some clue if she were unwilling.”</p><p>“And she had <em> plenty </em>of reason to run, didn’t she?” Kallian snarled.</p><p>Immediately, a cacophony of several arguing voices erupted.</p><p>“Kally-” Alistair tried again. “You don’t know--”</p><p>“You can’t just assume she’d run--” The queen began.</p><p>“I have to agree with-” the teyrn growled, his gaze flickering to the royals, angry.</p><p>Nothing beyond that was in any way audible. Nathaniel drew back his shoulders, pitching his tone, calm and steady to cut right through the chaos. “If I might make a suggestion?” To his surprise, the room fell silent, looking at him. <em> I’m the only non-noble here, and no more than scenery next to the commander anyway, </em> he thought with some consternation. <em> How did that work? </em></p><p>He bowed to the king and queen, and nodded his head to Teyrn Cousland. “I can appreciate the need for discretion. But I’m a rogue who trained with her, and thus in the best position to suss out her plans, here. And if you’ll forgive the arrogance, that leaves me as quite possibly one of the only ones in this <em> castle </em> who could track her if she went willingly. I assume that, at least, was the commander’s thinking in summoning me.” Stiffly, Kallian nodded. “If I’m to help, I need to know what happened.” </p><p>Some tension was cut, the various powers of the room exchanging glances.  The teyrn’s look was the most suspicious of all, so Nathaniel met his eyes. “I assure you, nothing that might harm the lady Elspeth would leave this room.” A dagger, hidden in plain sight, handed right to him. The royals didn’t know him well enough, and would assume his relentless politeness held even here, that he hadn’t actually intended a threat to those words.</p><p>The teyrn would know better.</p><p>Fergus’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, canny eyes processing. The seed was planted, there, so Nathaniel moved to the next hardest to convince. Anora’s gaze on him was steady, judging, so he met her eyes as well. Not to challenge the queen, of course. She appreciated honesty, and forthrightness, as long as those surrounding her knew their place. The look he gave her was calm, but humble. <em> You are my queen. You remember I was once a noble, right? Well mannered and polite. I serve. And I can help you. </em> Her face softened, slightly, coming to a decision of her own. But to Nathaniel’s surprise, she first exchanged a glance with her husband, who looked helplessly back. Apparently they were more aligned than he gathered, that Anora was willing to share that decision with him, however little the king seemed to want it. In the end, Anora nodded to the Teyrn of Highever, silently ceding to him.</p><p>The Teyrn stared Nathaniel down, but eventually sighed, running a hand through his hair. His voice was still tense with frustrations, but had markedly softened. “My suspicion of your presence was spoken in anger, Warden, you’ve more than proven yourself cut from a different cloth than your father. My sister is missing, and I, I’d be grateful for any help you could offer.”</p><p>A tremor ran through Nathaniel, barely suppressed. It was all he could do to simply nod at the Teyrn, turning to the queen and hoping his swirling emotions weren’t showing.</p><p>The queen eyed him warily, but at last, spoke. “We had a conversation that went rather more poorly than I realized,” she conceded stiffly, before summarizing her tea with the Cousland heiress to Nathaniel’s steadily growing concern.</p><p>Pieces fell so clearly into place, Nathaniel had no choice but to accept the most obvious conclusion. Elspeth had run away, and <em> this </em>was what she was running from. A queen, maneuvering Elspeth Cousland of all people - that woman had hated the concept of marriage for most of her life - to take a political marriage, and bear children. And threatening her with Highever if she refused. </p><p>He was aware of the danger of believing he understood her still, and yet, all the same, the conclusion was obvious. Lady Elspeth had viewed the queen as a threat. And lacking the will to harm her own queen, she took the only option available to her instead and ran. It explained her panic as well, that Nathaniel had caught her; of course she had no faith of his good intentions for her. Of course she didn’t realize that if she’d just <em> explained </em> herself, he would have moved the sky itself to help-</p><p>Frustrations were mounting, and he shoved them down. He still had a performance to put on.</p><p>With a mask of calm firmly in place, he bent his mind towards the task of calming the royals and the teyrn, and giving them a useful sounding plan.</p><p>All the while, his mind whirled, plots of his own forming.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You know, Warden oaths are supposed to matter more than any previous ties,” Kallian’s voice hailed him from the doorway, bereft of polite greeting as usual. She invited herself in, shutting the door to the stockroom behind her.</p><p>He hesitated, and with some reluctance, ceased his packing efforts, looking up to meet her eyes. She wanted a serious conversation, that much was obvious. “I’d assumed if you took issue with the plan, you would have said something.” The commander scowled, so he pressed. “Do you not wish me to assist in tracking? I assur-”</p><p>“Would it even take?” she interrupted, voice calm and firm, green eyes digging into him. Normally, she was a friendly woman more than willing to poke fun at herself, and someone Nathaniel was pleased to call a good friend, these days. But a sternness to her gaze and the strength in her bearing warned him to remember who he was dealing with. <em> The </em> Warden-Commander and <em> the </em> Hero of Ferelden.</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>Unblinking eyes stared at him. “If I ordered you not to go. Would you even obey that?”</p><p>His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he thought of hiding again. But with the full weight of the stare of the Hero of Ferelden on him, he felt as exposed as a rat in the middle of a grand hall. He flickered his eyes to the side, anxious to be so vulnerable. “No,” he admitted quietly.</p><p>Frustration filled her features, and she huffed an annoyed sigh. “Yeah, figured as much,” she admitted, tension in her bearing increasing.</p><p>“Commander-”</p><p>“Wardens can’t just ditch their responsibilities. They can’t go rogue. You know how bad that would look? You’d piss, just, so many people off,” she reminded him, her tone a touch pleading. </p><p>“I know,” he said quietly. </p><p>“You <em> know </em>what they’d say about you. You’d be a Howe who betrayed the Order, again. Is that what you want? All that work to clean your family name and-”</p><p>“I <em> know! </em>” he snapped. His fists clenched, anger searing through him at this attack. Why was she acting like this? “But if you intend to put me in that position with such an order, I have no other choice!”</p><p>“Really? No <em> choice? </em> ” Fury flared in her eyes then, and despite himself, Nathaniel took a step back, cautious. “I thought you cared about her, Howe, but maybe she was right all along. Maybe you <em> do </em>hate her.”</p><p>Shocked, he stared at her, momentarily robbed of words. A moment later, bitter fury seared through him. He stepped forward, his voice a growl, not afraid to press into her face in this. “With all due respect, <em> fuck </em> you, commander. That was low, and wrong of you. And you <em> know </em> it.”</p><p>Not phased in the slightest, her anger seemed to fill the room. “Then why the fuck are you going to drag her back to <em> that </em>?” she snarled.</p><p>“I’m <em> not! </em>” Nathaniel snapped. A frozen moment, as wide green eyes filling with too much realization stared him down. Damnation. He’d badly erred. “I’m, I’m not going to drag her, I’m going to convince her,” he tried to cover stiffly.</p><p>“Liar,” she said quietly, and with damming certainty. Heavy silence fell. “Out with it then, Howe. You’re blown and you know it. What’s your plan, here?”</p><p>He sighed, tugging a hand through his hair. “Not well thought out,” he admitted ruefully. “Find her. Warn her about the identity and capability of the other agents the Crown intends to send to track her down. If she lets me, protect her, help buy her the time she needs to make her escape certain.”</p><p>“You think she will?”</p><p>He gave a bitter laugh. “Almost certainly not. But I have to try all the same. She must realize the debt I owe her, that this might be my only opportunity to pay it off.”</p><p>A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she started chuckling, cutting the tension in the room. “Maker! I’m an idiot. Shoulda guessed,” she conceded ruefully, while Nathaniel hovered in uncertainty.  He knew the commander was Elspeth’s friend, true, but she had a duty as well. Would she reveal his intent? “Alright, Howe, those damn nobles took over everything so I never actually gave you official orders. I suppose I should do that now.”</p><p>He stiffened, wary.  “Commander-”</p><p>“Elspeth Cousland has disappeared from the castle. She has been a valuable ally to the Wardens, and to this province. As both Arlessa of Amaranthine and Warden Commander of Ferelden, I charge you with finding her and protecting her from all that might threaten her. Whether she wants it or not, don’t weasel out of this one, Howe. And of course, safeguard her return home.”</p><p>“...and if she chooses not to return?”</p><p>She smirked, faintly.  “Did I give you a time limit?”</p><p>A tension uncoiled around his heart, then, leaving him feeling weak as relief slammed through him. He found himself needing a moment. Things couldn’t just go that well, could they? No. He must be missing something. A worry flared in his heart. “I suppose you have no use for me around here, then?”</p><p>Incongruent to his growing worries, Kallian simply laughed, then. “Please. I’m <em> pissed </em> I have to lose you for Maker knows how long. Especially now that you and Elsa both did your damndest to convince me to accept that damn Templar. Maker forsaken rogues, always making your life complicated, <em> suspiciously </em> absent for the clean up.”</p><p>Nathaniel shifted. “If you have doubts about the Templar, why-”</p><p>Kallian grunted, shaking her head dismissively. “Don’t get me wrong, changing my mind wasn’t actually on you two, I’m teasing. I made the decision because it was the right thing to do and I need the help anyway. Especially since I’m about to lose one of my best Wardens for, again, Maker knows how long.”</p><p>That last part was clearly ridiculous, she’d made the decision <em> well </em> before she’d known. But still. Despite himself, a steady warmth was growing in Nathaniel’s heart, banishing some of the shadows of despair that had stubbornly weighed it down. He began to pack again, in earnest. “What, is Sigrun leaving too?” he teased, tone dry.</p><p>She brightened openly. “Oh hey, good point. You won’t even be missed.”</p><p>“You ass.”</p><p>“Hey, that’s <em> Commander </em> Ass to you, chump.”</p><p>“I’m fairly certain that’s Alistair’s job."</p><p>She laughed, but evidently elected not to take the obvious bait - between the king and the former city elf, they both knew who commanded in that relationship. But the levity faded, somberness taking her. “You’re ok with this, though?”</p><p>He hesitated, deciding to instead deflect. “Commander - your orders. ‘Whether she wants it or not.’ I’m not sure how easy that will be. And I doubt she’d take kindly to a stalker.” </p><p>She nodded. “I know, trust me. You remember I served a temporary stint as her personal guard? I lost years of my life in those few months trying to keep up with her. Anyway. If she tries to send you off, remind her it’s my orders. And if she tries to argue out of that, just tell her this is my revenge.”</p><p>“For?”</p><p>Kallian smirked, faintly. “She’ll figure it out.”</p><p>He gave her a skeptical look. “Tricking you about Templars is hardly-”</p><p>“Not that,” she dismissed.  “Trust me, you’re not the only one who can get under her skin.” Nathaniel had to accept that, and with a few last minute ingredients shoved into his bag, finally finished packing. Kallian gave him a keen look, genuine sadness in her eyes. “I suppose every moment counts, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“I know where she’s going,” Nathaniel demurred, now that they were just being open. Her eyes widened slightly, but thankfully, she didn’t press. “I can afford to linger, at least for a proper goodbye. And who knows how long I’ll be gone?”</p><p>A noise of sadness tore from her throat, then, and she launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. “Maker, I’ll miss you both so much,” she admitted, her voice ringing with a bright warmth he found nearly unbearable. He hugged her back tightly, not willing to let her see how deeply she affected him. “You’d better keep in touch.”</p><p>“And I you, commander.  Say goodbye to the others for me, will you?”</p><p>“Maker-forsaken <em> rogues </em> and their <em> messes! </em> ” Kallian breathed in exasperation. “You’re really leaving me with <em> that </em>one?”</p><p>“I can’t afford to risk it. Anders wouldn’t let me leave for precious hours, and…” he trailed off for a moment. “I don’t think I could bear it.”</p><p>Kallian laughed, finally pulling back. “Well. Best of luck, Howe. Stay safe. And I still can’t order this, but - fix things, yeah?”</p><p> “...I promise only to try.”</p><p>Her pleased smile and smug satisfaction were nearly unbearable, but he couldn’t help it. Nathaniel smiled faintly, her relentless optimism worming itself into his heart. She nodded graciously, tone cheerful.  “That’s all I ask.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Interlude: Landsmeet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Upon hearing the news of his father's demise and rumors of Elspeth's reappearance, Thomas rushes to Denerim. But quite to her surprise, he offers to help Kallin unite the nobles of the Landsmeet, and he seems far too useful to pass up. </p><p> </p><p>CW: casual sexism</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, the weeks leading up to the Landsmeet (Cassus), Dragon 30</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been <em> over </em> this,” Thomas pressed, frustrations mounting as we got late into the evening. He ran an irritated hand through light brown hair, somehow still managing to leave it look attractively tousled. “Arl Wulff is the old, conservative type, and leads a powerful bloc. He commands <em> respect </em>. He wants to know if a problem’s fixed, he won’t have to drop everything and run on his old, gnarled, knobbly knees to come back to Denerim again. Unless we figure out someone to name as heir to the throne, I swear to you, he’ll be unconvinced.”</p><p>Kallian’s expression stayed resolute, an impressive feat considering how heartbroken I knew she was. She rarely bothered to hide her emotions in any circumstance, which meant she was just that focused on the mission. Alistair, by contrast, broke immediately, blushed and sputtering. “Well, hold on now, I can’t-”</p><p>“He doesn’t mean get Anora pregnant, Alistair,” I cut in with a sigh, not wanting to endure this. “He means we need to find a noble we trust to bring in as your next in line.”</p><p>“Thank you, Elsie, sharp as ever,” Thomas enthused, grinning cockily, brown eyes too smug.</p><p><em> I prefer Elsa, </em> I nearly snapped out again, but I mastered the tantrum, shoving down my unease and discomfort. I plastered on a pleased grin, winking in return. We needed his help; it was fortuitous indeed that Thomas had rushed to Denerim upon hearing news of his father's demise, seeking us out not for revenge, but to offer help. I was suspicious - of course I was - but even I had to admit that Thomas would happily bet on a rising star like Kallian. Thomas could bring in several voices we couldn’t gather alone. And what better story would there be to rehabilitate Ferelden, than the children of the two traitorous leaders openly defying their parents and supporting Warden Kallian? </p><p>I was the linchpin to keeping him with us, I knew. I had to keep playing nice.</p><p>“So we need a candidate. I suppose that should be you, Thomas?” Anora demanded archly.</p><p>“Your majesty,” Thomas drawled. “I wouldn’t be opposed, but I’m a Howe. My greedy father’s gone and tarnished the family name, and thanks to certain clever actions around here, all the nobles know it. Everyone <em> hates </em> my father.”</p><p>“I hope you don’t expect me to feel bad about that,” I commented mildly.</p><p>Thomas flashed a smile at me I’m sure he thought was charming. “Of course not, Elsie, you silly goose, don’t you know how to take a compliment? Anyway, It’ll be awhile before I drag my Arling out of the muck he sunk us in, and the Landsmeet is nearly upon us. We need a potential heir to name <em> now </em>.”</p><p>I nodded. Plain good sense. “Thomas is right. So if we approach Arl Eamon-” </p><p>“Nice try, Elsie, but playing modest doesn’t suit you,” he pointed out, reaching to tap me on the nose. My stomach turned, but I wrinkled my nose instead, playfully chiding as I batted his hand away. “You know you’re the best option, here.”</p><p>“He’s not without point, Elspeth,” Anora mused slowly, staring me down, weighing me on a scale. Looking ready to pick me apart, piece by piece. “You said Eamon has already turned down trying for the throne, and the list of nobles that could be trusted is short.”</p><p>“I don’t mean to be an ass,” Kallian began carefully, which worried me, as she rarely proceeded with such restraint. “But the nobles think the Couslands are traitors. It’s why-”</p><p>I stomped on her foot hard, getting a yelp and a wounded look. That was fine, as it also cut off the rest of the sentiment I knew she was about to blurt out. </p><p>I did not want her openly reminding Anora she’d been the second choice. It wasn't that she didn’t know, of course, but it was rather rude to rub it in her face.</p><p>Especially in front of Thomas, who actually didn’t know.</p><p>Kallian’s original plan had been to put Alistair on the throne. I’d been dubious, but Kallian had an intuition I’d steadily grown to trust. Spending time with the man solidified that faith; Alistair was the rare good man more motivated by what would help others than how to advance himself. He could use some seasoning, and good advisors, but there, at least, I could hopefully be of <em> some </em> use to my country. As it turned out, Kallian felt the same about my hesitations, deciding Alistair would do better if he were co ruling with someone more familiar with the responsibilities and politics involved. She’d approached <em> me </em>. </p><p>I’d strongly objected for so many obvious reasons, heavily implying that my traitorous status would be an insurmountable hindrance, and she settled on Anora.</p><p>“Yes, Kallian, thank you for reminding everyone of my family’s reputation,” I agreed through gritted teeth, playing embarrassed. “That’s rather a problem, and why we should find someone else.”</p><p>“We can change that rather more easily-” Thomas began.</p><p>“There’s a <em> Blight </em> happening, Thomas,” I snapped, before reigning in my temper. “Naming me heir would do more harm than good. The Cousland name is tarnished as well. Or have you both forgotten how easily the other nobles accepted the accusations of treachery, tacitly allowing my family’s downfall?”</p><p>Anora flinched, hard, but I didn’t even let my eyes flicker in her direction. I was glad she felt the heat of my condemnation all the same. She was the queen. She could have done something to stop it. Instead she’d just let her father roll right over her, taking her voice and her power to stop things.</p><p>I’d thought we were friends. And I knew my mother, at least, had been dear to her, a source of refuge and wisdom and kindness when the demands of court began to wear on her. She’d been murdered by Howe’s men, and her name tarnished at his insistence, all while people who I’d’ve thought would support us, or at least distrust Rendon, stood by.</p><p>She <em> should </em> flinch <em> . </em></p><p>“-trying to restore me just risks dividing them more.”</p><p>“I’m not so sure,” Anora mused, carefully not looking at me. “Rendon’s crimes were many. The Couslands’ supposed betrayal hinged entirely on what was put forth by a man now despised by most. It shouldn’t take much to entirely clear the Cousland name. I don’t suppose there’s any hope we could prove Rendon manufactured those incriminating documents?”</p><p>Thomas lit up in an expression I knew all too well. <em> Shit. </em> He had us, I realized with a sinking heart. He only ever used that smile when he was about to use his hidden dagger. It was a terribly revealing habit. </p><p>“As a matter of fact...I might be able to acquire such proof,” he murmured, and my heart clenched. “I’ve inherited much since my old man’s timely demise, his network, his contacts.”  He paused for drama and flicked a glance about, gauging the reactions. Anora was sensibly wary, and didn’t seem to care if her face screamed as much. Kallian and Alistair’s hopeful, intent expressions probably betrayed enough, but I didn’t let my  expression waver all the same even as he subjected me to his scrutiny. He shrugged languidly, inspecting his nails to hide his smug satisfaction. “We all know he made that whole “Couslands are betraying Fereldan to Orlais” story up hold cloth, I’m positive I can suss out such evidence. I’ve already had hints.”</p><p><em> He’s already got it, </em> I knew. <em> Rendon, you fool, you left a tangible trail? </em> Another time, I might have played coy, but he’d struck right at the heart of me, and I couldn’t dance around this one. “And what would you <em> want </em>for that evidence?”</p><p>“Elsie,” he breathed, looking wounded, as he pressed forward. He reached out a hand, and I forced myself not to cringe away as he stroked my cheek. “I treasure you. You know that. I just want to help you, to bring you to your proper place.”</p><p>I swallowed, understanding what he was asking. Same thing he’d tried to ask multiple times during our lives. Never once with any sort of affection in his eyes, just possessiveness. What a careful line to walk, to reject him without driving him away. My expression became sad, and thoughtful, but resolute. “Thomas, this is a question for another day. As I said, I don’t need that proof. We can worry about my house after the Landsmeet. But <em> right now </em>, if we need an heir, we should look for other-”</p><p>“It will be you, Elspeth,” Anora said quietly, her voice ringing out with a cold finality, her words a leash I could practically feel. “I will accept no other heir, not when it comes to the future of Ferelden. So, Wardens, that leaves it to you. Accept Elspeth, or we make do without one. Or try to push forward without me.”</p><p>No. <em> No. </em> I swallowed. “Anora-”</p><p>She gave me a hard look. “My decision is final.” </p><p>Alistair shot a glance between the two of us, before finally looking to Kallian, the ultimate decider.</p><p>“Kally-” I began, and cut myself off. I saw the lines of weariness in her face, each telling a story of the constant battles she’d faced. Always pressing forward, barely spending any time to rest for herself, desperate to claw this land back from the abyss. How she’d finally found a sliver of happiness in Alistair, and had sacrificed that, and his, for what she believed was the right call. She was our best hope at beating back the darkness. </p><p>My protests died in my throat. The last thing she needed was someone else trying to control her. </p><p>“I trust you,” I finally breathed. “I’ll support your decision.” </p><p>The tension left her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with slightly more life. I could see her gratitude for my faith in her, as if she hadn’t thoroughly earned it. As if trusting this hero weren’t as simple as breathing. </p><p>“Anora’s right, Elsa. You’re the best choice for this,” she said quietly. “And Thomas is right. Even beyond just getting those fuckers unified, a Blight is dangerous. A lot could go wrong. If, if the worst happens, if we lose both of them…” she trailed off, expression grim, fists clenched. Alistair reached out to touch her, and she shied away. “I can’t afford to come back here in a year, and risk another fucking Landsmeet or <em> bullshit </em>Assembly claiming they don’t have to help because they don’t have a ruler. I want this settled now, and for good. There aren’t a lot of people I trust to focus on what’s important, if it comes to it. You’re the best option.”</p><p>I couldn’t say I enjoyed feeling that burden on my shoulders, feeling the walls close in around me, but didn’t I owe it to them?  </p><p>Didn’t I owe it to my parents, my brother and his family?</p><p><em> A Cousland does their duty. </em> And for better or worse, this was now mine. I could serve Ferelden. I <em> would </em> serve Ferelden. Warden Kallian Tabris was asking it of me. As were the future king and queen. My parents would be so proud. And they would expect me to serve my country.</p><p>I would just have to ensure I didn’t tear the throne apart, piece by piece.</p><p>No matter how much I wanted to.</p><p>I met their gazes, and sighed, nodding. “If you feel that is how I can best serve, then so be it. I accept. But only until such a time as a more suitable heir can be found, or,” I hesitated only slightly, not looking at Kallian, “-produced.” Alistiar colored, but Anora’s expression didn’t alter in the slightest.</p><p>“Which leaves her status.” Anora turned to Thomas. “Do it. Get that evidence. If you have a price, name it. Let us clear Elspeth’s name, so that she can be our heir.”</p><p>His smile widened. “I’ll see what I can do.”</p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><hr/><p>“You realize what procuring that evidence will do to my family name, I trust,” Thomas’s voice hailed me, and I tried not to flinch. Damn Kallian and her insistence I stop trapping my door at Eamon’s estate; I hadn’t even heard him open it. Thank the Maker I hadn’t been doing anything obviously incriminating at the moment.</p><p><em> Cut to the chase </em>, I wanted to snap, but I suppressed that petty urge. I turned to give him a sad look, full of empathy. “Nothing Rendon didn’t bring about regardless.”</p><p>“True enough,” Thomas agreed with a sigh, shoulders dropping, expression far away. For a moment, he looked sad, and unwanted, genuine empathy welled up within me.</p><p>“Thomas-”</p><p>“I can’t believe what he tried to pull. What was that old man thinking?” he cursed, clenching his fists and banging the frame of the door, before wincing and checking down the hall of Arl Eamon’s estate.</p><p>I sighed, his unspoken request clear. “Come in, if you want to talk.”</p><p>Thomas did so gratefully, shutting the door and pulling me in for a hug. I shoved down the revulsion I felt, hugging him in return. “It’s going to be ok,” I soothed. </p><p>“Thanks Elsie,” he murmured in my ear, and as his hands started to wander lower, I gently freed myself from his embrace, somehow managing to maintain my friendly expression. “It’s going to be a long road to lift my family’s name out of the mud. Amaranthine is...is my responsibility now.”</p><p>“It’s a hard task, but not an impossible one,” I said quietly, taking a seat once more and gesturing him to do the same.  “Have you considered reaching out to your uncle Bryland? I’m sure he’d-”</p><p>“Leonas still hates every one of us,” Thomas dismissed. “Can’t stand that his sister’s precious womb was sullied with a man like my father. He’d never help.”</p><p>I knew the truth was a little more complex than that, but it was an old attitude he’d inherited from his father, I’d not win him over here. “You may be right, but it’s worth a try all the same.”</p><p>“Here’s the thing, Elsie. It’s your family that my father harmed the most. Only you can help us back out of the gutter.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow at him. “Thomas. Why are you forcing me to remind you? I’m alone. The Cousland name is <em> me. </em> ” I clenched a fist, not looking at the sympathy on his face which I didn’t believe anyway. Emotions clogged my throat but I spoke through them, desperate to control my voice from faltering. “Your father was thorough. Accidents befell every single one of my paternal relatives, and what few maternal relatives I have left are pretending they’ve no connection to me. I’m scum to the nobles right now. I’ve been in hiding for nearly a year now. I have no estate, no armies, no capital, no support.” Despite my best efforts, I was getting heated, and hated the anger weaved through my voice. “We shouldn’t be propping me up, and you <em> certainly </em> shouldn’t expect I have any power to help you.” <em> Even if I were willing. </em></p><p>“But you are still <em> Cousland </em> ,” he pressed. “And all will know it. Especially if you let me help you to clear your name. You think a year is enough to fade your memory from their minds? They want us back in power, Elsa, because it’s the groves of their precious traditions. Cousland and Howes, old, strong names, names that they don’t <em> want </em> to fall, because that might mean they’re vulnerable too. They’ll assist us, Elsa, because they’re terrified of what it means otherwise. Your name has too much power, too much history, for them to let falter long.”</p><p>Pah. He was not without some point, at least; even if I was considered a traitor, a few would consider me more important, more worth listening to, solely because of that <em> bloodline </em> connection. It meant so little, in the grander scheme of things. But <em> they </em> cared all the same.</p><p>I was born to great power and privilege.</p><p>And look at all I had accomplished with that.</p><p>“They’re fools, the lot of them,” I said.</p><p>He reached out, face gentle, and touched my shoulder. “Yes. Which is why we need to work together. We could make a difference, once we bring both the Couslands and the Howes back to prominence once more.” Disgust crested my features before I could stop myself, and his face flickered angry, before melting to a chiding smile. “<em> I </em> didn’t do anything to you, Elsie, and neither did my sweet, helpless sister. Should his children suffer, too, for that old man’s ambition? It was my <em> father’s </em>sin that drove our family into the ground.”</p><p>“Of course I want you three and your mother safe and thriving, but what you’re asking is bigger than you pretend. Those atrocities don’t happen because of one man, Thomas,” I ground out, a manic energy taking me as I dug through my temporary work desk. </p><p>“Elsie-”</p><p>“Rendon was unpopular with the other nobles of the Landsmeet after what he pulled, but not alone. You think <em> your </em>paternal side has been sitting idle? The support and network he needed to pull that off, the Banns still supporting him, propping him up, loaning him coin and soldiers? Here, a letter from Marcella, promising to make trouble in Alfstanna’s lands with her troops posing as bandits, to take her attention from other matters-”</p><p>“So kill ‘em,” Thomas cut in with a shrug, rudely ending my building rant and ignoring one of the priceless bits of evidence I’d so carefully acquired. I stared at him, cheated. “Cut out the rot. It’s right to force out the old dead weight, to make room for the new. I don’t give a fig if you slaughter half my family to find the parts worth saving.”</p><p>I sighed, sinking back into my chair. “You know that’s now how I -” </p><p><em> -blood splattering me, burning a gurgling, sneering face. My mentor, my monster, I hope you’re in agony as you breath your last, you deserve the world’s pain, you deserve, you deserve - oh Maker, no, why did it have to be like this, tell me you’ll be ok, tell me this was a test, tell me I impressed you for once in your fucking life - I want you dead, I want you to live with what you’ve done, I want - I want my family back you monster - you were my family too- </em> </p><p>My voice caught, and for a long moment, I could do nothing but tremble, trying to master myself.  “...not, not how I want to do things.”</p><p>“Soft as ever, I see.” He sighed, and leaned back, looking at the ceiling.</p><p>“Thomas, the Blight is my primary concern right now, and I’m behind Warden Tabris on this one. Beyond getting Ferelden united and armies into one, politics can rot.”</p><p>“Wardens always claim they’re above politics, and yours certainly insists she hates them. And yet what’s she done this past year but get involved in politics? Eamon, the Tower, the dwarven Assembly...even those woodland rabbits, if you can call that <em> politics </em> .” He shook his head. “Nothing is free, Elsa, and if you expect my help clearing your name - as she <em> wants </em>- then I want to know I won’t be immediately cast aside. I’m not saying my father wouldn’t deserve that, but do I?”</p><p>I sighed again, tapping my fingernails on the desk in irritation. Apparently we were done with the masks, if he was being so blatant. “Enough build up, then. What, exactly, do you <em> want </em>, Thomas?”</p><p>He met my eyes, offering a kind smile that rang hollow. A hand reached out, thumb caressing my cheek possessively. Anger and fear stewed within me, but I forced myself not to recoil from his touch. “Elsie. You know I’m crazy about you. Always have been,” he lied. “Unlike those other fools who used to whimper after you, all silent now, I love you <em>despite</em> how violent you are. And I have plans that would see us both given our due. If you were at my side-”</p><p>“No,” I said quietly, words fleeing from my lips before I could think of restraint. “I will not marry you.” His eyes flashed that familiar anger I knew all too well, so I crinkled mine, teasing, lighthearted, trying to soften the moment. “I’m not saying never, Thomas,” I lied, “But how can you think of marriage at a time like this?”</p><p>“I’m not asking you to promise your hand immediately, but let me try to convince you. Let me court you. You may be scum to them right <em> now </em>, but I would see that changed. Both of us, clearing our names, bringing the hope of unions and restoration for a new age. Back where we belong. Tell me that doesn’t tempt you, Elsie.”</p><p>I sighed, mulling it over. The very simplicity of it had me on edge. Simple from his perspective, anyway; the notion of having to put up with Thomas’s attempts to woo me knowing I had this time welcomed it, was a grim burden to contemplate. How long would I have to fake smiles until I could tell him no? I knew he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t have some plan in mind; powerless seeming favors could be the most dangerous of all. </p><p>But.</p><p>Thomas wouldn’t offer what he didn’t have. If he had proof that could clear my family name, didn’t I owe that to my parents? I wasn’t sure I deserved the lands and titles and responsibilities that came with being the sole remaining Cousland, but I could always worry about that later. My father and mother and brother deserved to be remembered with respect.</p><p>And in the end, his support was useful. I wasn’t unaware of the irony of the reflection; Howes were rather good at casting off their father’s treacherous ways through cleaving themselves to whatever rising and popular power existed. But Thomas brought in many nobles who’d supported his father, or who otherwise might fear the vengeance any of the new power might want for their actions.</p><p>“Too much rides on this, so I’m not going to accept word games,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. </p><p>“So mercenary,” he chided.</p><p>“You hand over evidence that your father fabricated my family’s traitorous intentions, and I agree to let you court me. I presume that would be made public, when we go forward with all of this. But it is sill on me to make my own choice in the end.”</p><p>He gave me a bemused sigh, exasperated at my bluntness and shaking his head. “Correct on all accounts, Elsie. You promise a couple months of public courtship - I don't want to compete with those opportunistic jackals to jump in once your fortunes are reversed. Give me that chance, but the "yes" is yours to give in the end. And for that, I will give you the evidence that will clear your family name. That is my bargain with you.”</p><p>I took a breath, stealing myself. Forcing the pleased expression, as if this were a simple ask. As if he had hope of success. “Alright, Thomas, I accept,” I agreed, smiling faintly. “I look forward to seeing you charm me.”</p><p>“Oh Elsie, I think even you’ll be surprised,” he smiled, reaching out a hand to stroke my cheek once more. My smile stayed in place, eyes crinkling in amusement, before gently moving my head away as a reminder. His smirk widened, he dipped his head. “You said you’re alone Elsie, but just remember...that doesn’t have to be true,” he left me with, excusing himself with a jaunty wave of farewell.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You just had to have your story, didn’t you? </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Interlude: Siege of Denerim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At her lowest point and left to defend Denerim only for the horde to hit the city instead of Redcliffe, Elspeth desperately struggles to protect those around her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland </em>, the siege of Denerim (Verimensis), Dragon 31</p><p> </p><p>Fire, flames tearing against the darkened sky. Ashes, falling everywhere like blighted snow. Blood and taint and smoke and chaos and <em> everything is going wrong again, Maker, why?! Why can’t I protect anything? </em> </p><p>Denerim was on fire, and I had been abandoned by those few friends I had left to watch it burn. Kallian had called me useless, maybe not literally, but effectively all the same. King Alistair concurred, demanding I stay behind with Queen Anora, protected and coddled in the city because I wasn’t useful enough to risk.</p><p>After everything I’d done. The triumphant Cousland Heiress, no small factor in rallying the quarrelsome nobles of the Landsmeet to a practically unheard of unanimous vote. All of Ferelden stood united behind Kallian.</p><p>But now, she thought me useless. Too weak to protect myself. Too ineffective to bring along for the supposedly pivotal battle in Redcliffe.</p><p>Because she wanted me <em> protected. </em> </p><p><em> Your plan fucking got away from you, Kally, </em> I snarled mentally, firing an arrow and reaching back to find my quiver empty again. My platoon - barely over a dozen now - was barely holding the narrow passageway, one of the bridges to the next ring in the city. The platoon was mostly farmers and craftspeople, anchored by a core of veterans that had been deemed too old to fight but still had stout hearts and the will to defend their home, and those with disabilities that had to be put to clever use. Every one of them willing to grab a weapon and fight to defend their home with a fierceness and bravery that made me prouder than ever to call myself Ferelden.  </p><p>I roared out encouragement in between my shots. Diminished as we were, we had yet to break. We couldn’t stem the tide, not really. It was getting well into the night on the same day they finally broke through the city walls. The darkspawn came and they pressed and they flooded and they didn’t stop. But we would make them <em> bleed </em> for every inch they took. </p><p>A black woman in heavy armor ran up from behind, looking desperate for a way around the fire in between us, and in a moment I understood why. A Shriek appeared behind her; claws readying to rend her throat.</p><p>Movement made the choice before thought did, and I fully activated my speed runes. A foolish decision I couldn’t regret. The searing pain of those runes pressed against my tattered skin, burning lyrium seizing me, foreign and unwelcome but invited magic coursing through my veins. I had used them too many times today, and each left me worse for wear.  </p><p>But it gave me what I needed: time. The world slowed around me as I raced forward. I dashed through the flame, tongues barely moving and unlikely to affect me anyway, doused in fire resistance potion as I was. </p><p>The Shriek had scarcely moved more than a few inches as I approached. Daggers flicked out, slicing its hands off at their weakest joint and cutting its throat for good measure. I kicked it hard in the chest, my relative speed caving it in as it began to fly backwards, moving through molasses.</p><p>Threat neutralized, I quickly tore at my bracers, breaking the connection between the runes and my bare skin, my blood. The world caught up with me once more and I held still for a moment, trying not to let everything spin, trying not to let the sudden nausea succeed against me. </p><p><em> This is why Rida always insisted not to use them for long battles! Only those I can end quickly and completely! </em> </p><p>...<em> but I’d never have been able to save this woman in time otherwise. Shrieks and their Maker forsaken Blighted claws kill too quickly. </em></p><p>“Teyrna Cousland!” the woman gaped at me, soaked with sweat and fear and soot.</p><p>How I hated that title.</p><p>“Steady on, there,” I replied, throwing on what I hoped was an encouraging smile, offering her a hand up. <em>A good noble must pretend they have things under control. They must be brave, even when all seems lost.</em> <em>I can’t let any of them see my despair. </em>“Keep an eye out for those tricky blighters. All the armor in the world never seems enough when they slide daggers between your plates. All right there, Lieutenant...?”</p><p>“Lieutenant Hye, your ladyship,” she greeted me, banging her breastplate with a quick salute. “I’m - I’m well, I think. You stopped it before - I - thank you, you saved me, I-”</p><p>“Take a moment, catch your breath,” I encouraged her, turning my attention back to the battle, and quickly refilling my quiver from our dwindling stockpile. Blood and ashes, a moment of distraction and things were already scattering - we’d lost the captain shouting orders to an unlucky shot, which meant command fell back to me, again. <em> Dammit. </em> I drew back my shoulders, pitching my voice to be heard over the din of feral snarling and the crashing of structures and the horrible, relentless screaming. “ARCHERS - ignore the ogres - your arrows are wasted on their hides! Focus on the captains! Buy time for our warriors to reset the bridge’s killing field!”</p><p>Scrambling to align themselves with renewed vigor, we archers provided much needed cover fire as a few of the brave warriors ran out to reset the traps I had set up, becoming quite practiced by this point. Traps could only do so much; darkspawn had no problem throwing body after body at a problem. But they were excellent for slowing and bottlenecking even further than the bridge allowed, buying us desperately needed hope. Hye recovered next to me while I fired, weighing the benefits of downing my last remaining stamina potion. My energy was badly flagging, but I was still too nauseous from my speed runes to believe I could keep it down. It’d been days, Maker, was there no end to these monsters? </p><p>Had <em> none </em> of the horde gone to Redcliffe?</p><p>“Your ladyship, I’ve - I’ve come with a message from the Queen. She requests your presence.”</p><p>“Now?!”</p><p>“They’ve broken through to the inner ring elsewhere,” Hye breathed. “We need a new plan.”</p><p>“<em> Fuck </em>,” I swore, eyeing a nearby lieutenant to ensure he’d heard. His face paled, but he met my eyes, nodding. </p><p>“Congratulations on your field promotion, <em> Captain </em>Dornall, command falls to you. Do your countryfolk proud,” I ordered him.</p><p>Grim faced, his shoulders straightened with purpose, and saluted. “Yes, your highness!” </p><p>I gave him a confident smile, then threw back my shoulders. “Fereldens, you have faced odds none might dare, fought side by side with your brothers and sisters, and made them <em> bleed </em> for every inch they’d take of your home. They thought this would be easy, but you have proven, again and again, your mettle and resilience. Show them all the pride of this country! FOR FERELDEN!” I roared at the defenders, encouraged to hear them roar back, seemingly invigorated.</p><p>It would have to be enough. Hopefully I wasn’t leaving a group of future corpses behind. I turned to Hye. “Let’s make haste.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“The Queen’s at the palace? I thought - Fort Drakon?!” I demanded, even as we pressed forward. Fires and devastation and screams everywhere we turned. I had to conserve my shots, I didn’t know when I’d next restock arrows, but - I couldn’t not use them, not when it could save a life. My supply was rapidly dwindling.</p><p>“It’s -”  Hye’s sweat soaked brow spoke of her panic.</p><p>For a moment, I was distracted; a small, blond elf girl had tripped while running from a darkspawn archer. My bow was in my hands as if it had always been there; an arrow sang forth, piercing the darkspawn in the chest and staggering him back. Another arrow to finish the job. I whirled on the elf child, who watched it all with wide eyes. Shaking, quivering, sweating, trying for words she couldn’t force out her throat. She needed comfort. “Are you alright, da’len?” I asked, trying to soothe her with familiarity, borrowed words not my own. </p><p>“I’m - I’m-” she tried, staring at me with wide grey eyes. “He was - you got him, how…”</p><p>“Archery’s a handy skill,” I murmured, quickly checking her over. No obvious injuries.</p><p>“Do you have a safe place you can hide?” The elf child stared another moment, before suddenly nodding. “Good. Go there. <em> Hide </em> . Wait until things get better. They <em> will </em> get better.”</p><p>She stood up, a sudden confidence in her bearing, and walked up to the darkspawn corpse. “Stupid - jerk!” she insisted, kicking it in the side. Then she considered, and stole his bow.</p><p>That, hm, probably wouldn’t end well, considering her youth, but I wasn’t about to get between her and the choice to take her power back. “Just wipe off any darkspawn blood and guts from that,” I ordered her solemnly, and quickly she obeyed, tearing off a strip from her red dress and grimacing with disgust as she quickly slicked off the darkspawn viscera. Maker, let that be enough. “And point it at enemies only.”</p><p>She gave me a rapid nod, and darted off to an alleyway. </p><p>Hye came running up. “We need to press forward,” she insisted, stressed. As if that were all that mattered. Concerns that had plagued me now came to the fore.</p><p>“Nalka, right?” I said quietly.</p><p>“Yes, your ladyship, I’m honored you know that, but please, we have to move.”</p><p>She had no training in hiding her thoughts, it seemed, her face an open book. Hesitance. Anxiety. Fear. Concern. Beyond the baseline of what we were all feeling these past few days, what with the darkspawn siege and all. This was something else. Her hand was being forced, and she was unhappy about it.  A cold calculation settled over my shoulders, and I subtly shifted, posture casual but ready to act in a flash. I was but a twitch away from activating my speed runes. “Your name’s crossed my desk a few times, Nalka. Promising, talented warrior, born in my own Highever, but serving in the Royal Army in Denerim for the last decade. Never as advanced as you should be. And now suddenly, assigned under Thomas’s command, yet running favors for the Queen.”</p><p>Hye froze in place, turning to stare at me, her eyes wide and damningly guilty. “Yes, my lady,” she croaked. “I imagine it seems odd.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t happen to be the same Nalka that’s a...<em> friend </em> of Lialle’s, would you?”</p><p>Her eyes widened even further, expression betraying how ready she was to throw up. Her shoulders suddenly sagged, as if crumpled under the weight of her armor. “You - you know Lialle?”</p><p>“I was hiding in the alienage for over half a year, Nalka,” I explained gently, trying to smile encouragingly. My eyes raked her posture, waiting for the moment she would break, panic overwhelming her and setting her on me. Hoping it wouldn’t come. That I could talk her away from the ledge. “Worked with their healers. She’s quite the gifted woman.” She flinched, hard. I took a breath, voice kind. Sympathetic. <em> Friendly. </em> “That’s what <em> he </em>has on you, isn’t it?”’</p><p>“Yes,” she croaked, looking broken. Tears began to pour from her eyes, incongruous to her powerful armored and blood splattered form. “He - he has her hidden somewhere. For her safety, he claimed. I can’t - your ladyship-”</p><p><em> Ah, shit, </em> I realized, sympathy rising. Not just blackmail, then, against a woman with an elven lover. “I see. And so you were to lead me into a trap, in return for her safety?”</p><p>“That’s what he wanted,” she agreed, her throat clenched with emotions. “Told me to bring you to the Fort. He already has the queen, and-”</p><p>Cold dread settled within me. If he had the queen, a woman who herself wouldn’t be captured so easily...he had to be in his endgame. My options rapidly dwindled. “What? Then why were we heading to the palace?!”</p><p>“I can’t let him get you both,” she sobbed. “I can’t, <em> I can’t </em> ! I have a duty. Darkspawn are everywhere, I can’t let that <em> snake </em> win, even if, even if-”</p><p>I pressed forward and hugged her tightly then, and she broke, hugging me back, sobbing onto my shoulder.  “Oh, Nalka,” I murmured, voice as soothing as I could make it for a stranger I didn’t really know. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“I have to protect you. At least one of you. I already failed the queen, I already failed Lialle, at least-”</p><p>“You seem to be confused,” I pointed out, not really responding to her anymore mind trying to shove down the panic even as it churned, trying to give me a plan, a plot, anything. “Fort Drakon is the other way.”</p><p>“Yes, and that’s where he’s <em> waiting </em>, he has a trap for you, I know it, he-”</p><p>“Yes. I’m sure he does,” I murmured, with a confidence I faked. I hated walking into a trap, but damn that man, if I had a chance of saving the queen, I had to take it. “So let’s go spring it, yes?”</p><p>“Your ladyship-”</p><p>I pulled back, giving her a cocky smile, mind whirling with plots. “Nalka. I have a duty too. Now, let’s go. Let’s save them <em> both </em>.”</p><p>Despair cleared from her shoulders, then, light dawning in her eyes, and I could only hope I’d earn that faith. “Your ladyship...<em> thank you </em>.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Pain. Darkness. Uncooperative limbs, and the taste of deathroot and vandal aria caking my mouth. Nausea. The dead certainty I’d been poisoned, and badly. Pain, more pain. Waking awareness was a bitter thing indeed. And with as much subtlety as I could manage, I began working at the restraints on my limbs, while maintaining a pretense of unconsciousness. </p><p>Had I read her so wrong, had Hye betrayed me? I cast my mind back. A trapped hallway. I’d set about stealthily disabling them, only a short time later - her armored body hit the floor, even as darkness began to seize me too.</p><p>I nearly groaned out loud, but that would break my pretense of continued unconsciousness. I’d been a <em> fool </em>, so used to infiltrating alone these days, or at least only with other rogues. It didn’t matter how stealthy I was being when disabling those traps; there’d been a magical component to them. Disabling those subtly  was always tricky; I must have failed, alerting a mage that someone was trying to sneak by. They didn’t need to see where I was to see Hye, who had not been hidden, and could thus get us both with a gas grenade.</p><p>The idea of being made a broodmother was horrifying, but I was not dead yet, and would end myself if I had no other option. Maker, I hated fighting clever opponents; these darkspawn were getting worse and worse. Was an archdemon upon us?</p><p>“Wakey wakey, Elsie.” A light slap on the cheek.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p>This was far worse than darkspawn.</p><p>“T...Thomas?” I murmured, cracking my eyes and wincing against the light.<em> Pretend at optimism </em> . <em> Maybe then he won’t let the mask slip either. </em> “You-you saved me?”</p><p>“Not quite yet, my love, but soon enough,” he reassured me, which did anything but. </p><p>The light receded and vision came back to me, revealing a grim scene. Anora, tied, furious - clearly unwell. Erlina - <em> dammit </em>, dead. Unceremoniously dumped on the floor, like garbage. </p><p>And in the center of it all, Thomas. Looking far too pleased with himself. Causally menacing as he flipped a dagger. My blood began to boil, and I forcibly kept it simmering just beneath my skin. Hye, still unconscious, tightly bound. A hooded man standing back; fingertips tracing strange energies. <em> Mage. </em></p><p>“Be patient for just a moment, my sweet, and I’ll explain everything,” he said, tracing a fingertip on my cheek, before turning to the man. “You’ve done good work, Norell.” And in flash, his dagger slid across the mage’s throat. Blood immediately darkened his robes, and I gaped at the sight. “So many loose ends,” he tutted. “Don’t get me wrong - devastating to lose that talent. Trustworthy, too, let me set this whole thing up. Wouldn’t’ve caught you, otherwise. Sneaky as ever, Elsie! Father would be so proud.” He smiled widely, gesturing broadly. “But, you know how it is. How trustworthy can someone really be, in the end?”</p><p>I could scarcely breathe, lungs feeling like they were collapsing on me. I couldn’t tell if that was the poison, or the emotional fury of the day coming to rest on me. I stared at Thomas, desperate not to let the hate enter my eyes. What would an outburst gain me now? </p><p>“Thomas, I have to question your priorities,” I said carefully. This was fine. I wasn’t staring into the face of an insane man. “You might have noticed the city is being invaded by darkspawn. Is now really the time for such a plot?”</p><p>“Now is the perfect time for such a plot!” he retorted with unwelcome cheer. “I have you to thank, as well, Anora here might never have trusted me without your vouching. And now that her father’s gone off with the Wardens, she was delightfully easy to lure away from protection.”</p><p>The Queen’s eyes fell on me, furious, blaming me rightly for my failure. I trembled, trying not to let it show. Yet another one I’d failed. And once again, because I trusted a Howe too much. “<em> Manners </em>, Thomas. It’s Her Majesty, Queen Anora,” I chided him, voice barely able to sound steady through the pain. His eyes crinkled, but he didn’t take the bait. “Thomas, be a dear and just tell me. What do you hope to accomplish, here? My whole platoon knows where I was heading. Even if you gain our corpses, there’s no chance you can keep this hidden.”</p><p>“Oh, pish tosh, I’m not worried about that,” Thomas drawled. “Even if I didn’t have contingencies - no, <em> nosy </em>, of course I won’t tell you - those old fossils won’t stop me.”</p><p>The poison was taking its effect, I noticed, pain beginning to seize at my muscles, burning and nausea tearing through me. Looking at Anora’s pale face and pained expression, I had to wonder if she hadn’t felt the same. I worked faster on my bindings. “The - the nobles?”</p><p>He nodded. “A symptom of an older age, stuck in their glorious wars of the past and unable to understand the true war upon us now.” A fire lit in his eyes. “Think of it. We can do <em> better! </em> This is a moment for <em> change, </em> Elsie, I know you can feel it too. Should we sit on the sidelines and let those fossils direct the future for us? We can carve out the power we need to remake this country as we see fit.” He paused, sneer on his face. “Or would you rather Eamon rule from the shadows, mired in tradition, and convinced some dead bones give him more weight than the rest of Ferelden?”</p><p>I hated to admit it to myself, but he struck a chord in me then, as I’m sure he knew he would. Promises of a brighter future. A better way. A lifetime of lessons and one nightmare year, living in the alienage and forcing me to confront what a charmed existence I’d had. </p><p>My kind, the nobility, were not the gentle protectors I had supposed, that my parents had exhorted me to be. Instead, we were mostly predators, those who would seize power at any cost to abuse it for their own gain. Was there any escaping that cycle? I knew I wanted to help my country be better, but, could a failure like me really enact positive change?</p><p>“Pretty words,” I acknowledged softly. “Promises rather suspiciously delivered at knife point.” </p><p>“<em> And </em> poison,” he added. “Surely you’ve noticed by now, the slowness seizing your limbs? The burning, the nausea - I hate to say it, but you’re dying, my love, by Adder’s Kiss. As is ‘Nora.” He shook his head, amused. “It doesn’t matter if you escape those bindings, as I have the only antidote. You know you’ll not find another, not here in Denerim. Speaking of, you must be at least halfway out of those ties; never could make a knot you couldn’t get out of.”</p><p> No help for that one. I let the ropes I’d escaped drop, rubbing my wrists and bracers, and to my grim pleasure, his tension ratcheted up significantly. But as he didn’t make a move for the moment, neither did I. “Of course,” he murmured smoothly, a hint of anger in his expression. “Well done, Elsie. You always were rather talented.”</p><p>I met his eyes, then. Masks were off, apparently, and so the look I gave him was cold. Confident. In control. He was an obstacle.</p><p>He was <em> nothing. </em></p><p>“Poison’s a bargaining tool, Thomas, and you could have slit my throat while I was unconscious. Her Majesty’s as well. Since my time appears to be limited, perhaps cease the chapbook monologue and tell me what you want.”</p><p>“Elsie, I love you, but sometimes you can be so stupid,” he said quietly, his expression stubborn. Slowly he reached into his coat, pulling out a vial. “That poison will kill you both soon, quite soon. It will be painful, too, from what I’m told. Sorry about that, but I thought you needed a little motivation, and there are only so many poisons I was sure you couldn’t counter immediately.”</p><p>“And that, I take it, is the antidote? Your bargaining chip?” </p><p>He uncorked it briefly, wafting its scent over to me, confirming the truth, then shrugged. “I have but one dose. And because you’re very dear to me, I’ll consider letting you decide if one of you gets it, for a price.”</p><p>I looked into his eyes then, and finally the last piece of his plan kicked into place. It would be regarded as a tragedy, certainly, that Anora had perished in the siege, and I had no doubt that he would concoct some plan to ensure Alistair would follow. But we thankfully had an heiress all readily lined up. Currently being courted by Thomas. Most of the nobles would just presume a marriage between us was the natural conclusion to the story, and might not think to look for compulsion.</p><p>What a tidy ascension he’d planned for himself.</p><p>The antidote was a particularly cruel twist, characteristic of him. In making me choose to save myself, I would be complicit in her downfall, however little that meshed with reality. That guilt would be the tie that bound us together. </p><p>I locked eyes with Anora, then, seeing she understood too. The fear, the resignation. The anger and sadness. A lifetime of fighting tooth and nail to be taken seriously, only to be unceremoniously tossed aside like this, at the end.</p><p>“I understand, Thomas,” I said softly. “Give it to me.”</p><p>“Attagirl,” he said quietly. “I knew you’d see things my way. At the end of the day - we have to look for ourselves, first, Elsie. We’re the only ones we can trust. Now, let’s talk about what I want from you for this antidote.”</p><p>He was still grinning smugly, but I was past the point of caring, and pretenses. The poison was beginning to burn me from the inside out, my limbs felt as though they were drenched in burning oil, so slow to obey my commands. Soon they would be in too much pain to function at all. I had to move now or miss my chance. </p><p>“That,” I said softly, gratified to see a dose of fear in his eyes at that familiar threatening tone, “wasn’t a request.” </p><p>I activated my speed runes.</p><p>I tore forward even as surprise began to register on his face, slowly moving to a combat stance that would never get there in time. I snatched the vial from his hands, then ignored him, running to Anora’s side. With as much care as I could manage for my speed, I opened her mouth and dumped it down her throat, forcing her to swallow. Pain and nausea and so much burning tore through me, and I tore at my bracers, ending the effect. Anora stared at me with startled eyes.</p><p>“Live,” I hissed at her, tearing off her restraints and surprised to find blood coming out of my mouth. So little time left. So much to say, a future I could do so little now to help. “Bring in new blood. Fight the failed traditions. Make a <em> better </em>Ferelden, your Majesty.”</p><p>“You stupid girl,” Thomas hissed behind me. “Must I do everything myself?”</p><p>Dammit. Shaking limbs, so drained and weak and sluggish, from the poison and the ended effect of my runes. His silent footsteps behind me, so close, no choice. I activated my runes once again. My last stamina potion, still in my pouch. A wretchedly foolish thing to combine with poison, but what did it matter? My time was nearly up anyway. I downed it in a haste, hating how it burned and tortured my insides. I nearly threw it up. The twisted combined energy of a powerful stamina potion and my speed runes arced violently through my limbs. I turned towards him even as he was drawing his dagger, that friendly mask gone, fury in his eyes. But he’d never been a match for me, even if I wasn’t moving far past his speed. I drew mine first, knowing I needed this <em> ended </em>, desperate to clean up my mistakes while I still drew breath.</p><p>My dagger flashed through his throat. Blood slowly splashed out from that wound, and after I tore his daggers from his grasping hand, I broke my connection to my runes again. The effect ended, I vomited blood. I was left a shattered shell of a woman. Sick and weak and burning and in a moment, drenched in his blood as well.</p><p>“Wh-why,” he gurgled, staring at me, falling to his knees, the two of us sinking together. “You’ll-die. I - I loved you. Could have...”</p><p>“Future can get on...without us,” I murmured back. “Won’t let...your poison shape it.” He reached a hand towards me, trying to choke my throat - no. Just putting a hand on my cheek, leaving a bloody trail. Blood soaked through me, searing my flesh.</p><p>I watched his eyes even past the moment life drained out of them.</p><p>Thomas Howe was dead. <em> Murdered. </em> I couldn’t even pretend it was self defense, as I could have neutralized him just as easily, at that speed.</p><p>This was my fault, I realized. If I had just stopped him sooner - if I hadn’t encouraged him - he didn’t have to die too.</p><p>Rendon. Thomas. They weren’t my family, not really, but weren’t they?</p><p>
  <em> I am the lowest of scum. </em>
</p><p>Darkness ringed my vision, then. That was fine. This was nothing more than what I deserved.</p><p>I just hoped the future would be a little brighter without my shadows.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Please, please work, please, you have to wake up, please,” a voice begged me. “I can’t - I can’t do this without you, Elsa, please, I need you, please, Elsa, come back.”</p><p>...I was alive?</p><p>A feminine voice. Who in the world would sound that desperate? About <em> me? </em> I must be hallucinating.</p><p>I cracked an eye open, and Anora’s bright blue eyes met mine, crowded with - what, really? Tears? With a sob she launched herself at me, hugging me, all while the other figures sighed in relief.  Hye’s expression reassured, and -</p><p>“Oh. You found Lialle,” I murmured. <em> What a waste. </em> No, no. Manners. I tried to smile weakly at the elf, who looked drained and exhausted, but gave me a wan smile in return. “Thank you for saving my life. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, outing your gifts like this, in front of her majesty.”</p><p>“What gifts?” Anora asked archly, and for a moment, I genuinely believed her, before the corner of her lips tugged ever so faintly, a strange shift from her thunderous expression. A spark of life and good humor. <em> Thank the Maker. At least I haven’t ruined Lialle’s life too. </em></p><p>“It was a close run thing all the same. That stamina potion did you no favors,” the apostate replied, smiling faintly, the glow in her hands fading. “Always have to make things complicated, don’t you, Robin? Or is it Elspeth for good, now?”</p><p>I tried not to stare at Thomas’s body, drained of the blood his corpse was still drenched in. I gave her a smile that screamed lies. “You know me.”</p><p>“You fool, what <em> was </em> the plan?” Anora demanded, voice cracking like a whip. “What if we hadn’t been able to find this healer in time to save you?”</p><p>I leaned back with a groan. <em> It didn’t occur to me that you could. </em>“My plans always work.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>I nearly fell apart right there. But I couldn’t. Not now. My drowning self had to be suppressed. I was alive, and I could still be of use. Emotions must be purged until all were safe. “Your majesty, has a lot of time passed and things are safe, or are we still under a darkspawn siege?”</p><p>A flash of fury crossed her face again, but slowly, she forced calm, mirroring my expression. “I suppose we must prioritize. But rest assured, Teyrna Cousland, this conversation is <em> not </em> over.”</p><p>“I imagine not, your majesty” I agreed. “But right now, Denerim needs our best.”</p><p>Anora sighed heavily, but her eyes hardened, looking out the window. “That it does. So let’s go save it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Arc 2: Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland, </em> 29th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>In the end, it took Nathaniel Howe two attempts to actually catch up with me.</p><p>The first was without much fanfare or anything resembling a coherent plan out of him, which was immediately suspicious; this was <em> Nathaniel Howe. </em> </p><p>I’d stopped briefly to collect elfroot, intending to replenish my stock. He just appeared out of the trees. By the time he’d landed on the ground and before he could get a word off, I’d shot him through the calf - it <em> wasn’t </em>petty - and ran. </p><p>And if he had a problem with that, he could just <em> bite me </em> . <em> He </em> didn’t have to take a high speed tumble on barely recovered ribs afterwards, he’d be fine <em> much sooner. </em></p><p>I anticipated follow up, but as it turned out, that was it. He hadn’t tried to attack me or even disrupt me. There weren’t traps, or at least, none that I tripped; he wasn’t trying to chase me into an ambush of his fellow hunters, just - what, he thought he could walk up and <em> talk </em> to me? When I knew he was there to drag me back to the castle? </p><p>Ass.</p><p>I was much more careful in moving after that, now that my pursuit was certain and close. I stuck to the shadows, and it worked, for a time. And while I could always tell if Nathaniel was focused on me, I couldn’t tell if he was nearby, a moment away from seeing me. But eventually, the flares of intuition slowed, then ceased, and I contented myself that I’d left him behind.</p><p>The second time was largely out of my control; I’d stumbled across a squad of Dalish hunters. It wasn’t my first encounter with the Dalish, not by a long shot. The first time had been a pleasant surprise. I’d been able to learn that most Dalish did not, in fact, hunt humans for fun, and I tended not to forget such lessons. I’d interacted with a few hunters and even some of their keepers on more than one occasion, usually finding them useful traders and good sources of local information, if terse and mistrustful ones. But good manners rarely failed to settle jumpy nerves. </p><p>Unfortunately for me, however, these particular Dalish had settled hard into proud banditry. They wanted my gear, and seemed rather keen on my life, as well. Normally I was rather good at talking such situations down, but in this case, either they were too tense to allow that, or, admittedly, perhaps I was. </p><p>I’d not had a very good few days.</p><p>I ended up having to use my speed runes and was able to non-lethally neutralize almost everyone. But it turned out one of them was a mage - which, really? Why were they risking their precious mages in a <em> hunting </em> party, dammit?! - and things started going south quickly once she’d broken free and shaken off the ice from my flask.  </p><p>I never preferred fighting mages, not when I hadn’t had ample time to set up traps and prepare my poisons. I had none of my regular anti-mage poisons on me, and as soon as she realized I was doused in liberal fire resistance potion, she ceased attempting such elemental attacks, and turned nature and my own blood against me. </p><p>Realizing I was up against a blood mage, it was clear I needed to make my escape. And while she wasn’t eager to let me go, I was moving quickly enough that most of her spells kept missing. I thought I might have made it. Unfortunately, the previous liberal use of fire - at least <em> some </em> of which was the mage’s fault - soon caught my other pursuer’s attention. </p><p>I wondered if the mage would have had a chance if she wasn’t demonstrating herself to be such a clear and violent threat to me. To be fair to Nathaniel, he’d given the mage a very clear warning. “Surrender, and I’ll show you mercy.” She declined, more than happy to share her rage, and Nathaniel wasn’t one to back out on a threat. </p><p>One mage. Dead before me. The vines that had snagged and lacerated my leg released me, and my blood ceased boiling in my body. I sank to my knees, trying to catch my breath, and Nathaniel handed me a potion. Not being a complete fool, I ignored it.</p><p>Instead I stared, defeated, at the scene of carnage around me. I couldn’t help feeling gutted that that whole stupid encounter ended in her death anyway. I presumed she represented a significant source of safety and healing for her clan. What would they do now? It wasn’t my fault, but - wasn’t it?  If I’d been cleverer, more hidden, more - </p><p>“My lady, are you alright?” Nathaniel’s eyes were on me, focused and cautious. His wounds were minimal; mine were significant. I was beyond outmatched, here, and we both knew it.</p><p>“Fine, Warden,” I said, my even tone a mockery of all it hid. And because manners mattered, even to my intended captor, “Thank you for the rescue.”</p><p>He cast an uneasy glance around. “If you won’t take the potion - can you walk on that leg? I’m sure the rest of the clan will investigate soon. I’d offer to carry you, but I think we both know you’d refuse.”</p><p>I gave a bitter laugh, a damned tear leaking out the corner of my eye. <em> Never show weakness, </em> Rendon snarled in my head. I forced my throat to open, my eyes to stop watering, but that was as much as I was capable of. “Why are you continuing with this pretense? Just capture me already. You think I’m in a position to fight back?”</p><p>“...you? Yes. Always,” he said lightly. A surge of emotions slammed into me again; was I truly still such an easy mark? “Luckily for the both of us, that’s not what I’m here to do. The commander ordered me to help you.” I blinked, staring at him, trying to process this information. “If it helps, choose the direction. I will follow. We can talk when you’re safe.”</p><p>I cast one more glance at the dead body before me, surrounded by her unconscious friends, taking a deep shuddering breath. I couldn’t purge the emotions, not with so many mangled, unconscious or otherwise bodies - many maimed by my own hands - surrounded me. But I could at least maintain the façade. Calm lakes. Emotions deep below the placid surface. I couldn’t let the stress of the past several days explode. Not here, not now.</p><p>Not in front of him.</p><p>Carefully, I nodded.  “Guess I’ll just have a Howe at my back then. Wonderful. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>We spent the next while in relative silence, while I processed my emotions. Once we’d reached a safe distance, Nathaniel stood watch while I quickly patched up my wounds, at least so I wouldn’t keep leaving a trail of blood. No ambush caught up with us, nor Dalish pursuers getting their revenge. Where possible we stuck to the shadows, stalking through the forest, unchallenged the entire way. </p><p>That encounter - it probably couldn’t’ve gone another way. They’d refused every effort to back down, instead wanting to prey on a lone traveler they presumed was weak.</p><p>It was better this way. Really.</p><p>Nathaniel, silent presence beside me, had a body language so careful and deliberately calming I was reminded all too vividly of horse-masters working with spooked herds.</p><p>Not exactly flattering, but not inapt, I supposed.  </p><p>Not once did he attempt to guide or even influence my direction. Finally, I began to suspect that this was worth investigating, and that the Howe wasn’t entirely lying to me.</p><p>Or perhaps he was more clever than I was giving him credit for.</p><p>It was starting into evening by the time we cleared the woods, stepping into the hills surrounding a rocky plain. Far in the distance, cresting one of the larger hills was a town - Kilpadraig, I hoped, or I was very lost indeed. It was Bann’s seat, and was thus large enough to have city walls. Thankfully, it was also far away from the more sensible, direct roads to Amaranthine, so I hoped it wouldn’t be the first place my pursuers might look. And while Nathaniel now knew a potential destination, I still maintained hope I’d be able to disappear among the crowds should he finally turn on me.</p><p>The lure of safety was strong, especially with my injuries, but It would take us hours yet to reach the city. Light was steadily fading, limiting my options to easily read his face for lies. And I wasn’t about to let him tag along to the city walls until we had a proper conversation. Rocky outcroppings were plentiful, and unlikely to house bandits given its close proximity to the city. I finally chose a spot where I could watch for approaches, and turned to face my brooding shadow.</p><p>“Alright,” I said quietly, and he came to attention. “Tell me her exact words. Try and get the tone and nuance, too, Warden. I remember your impressions need work but I just need-”</p><p>“I charge you with finding her and protecting her from all that might threaten her,” Nathaniel announced, and I had to at least admit he captured <em> some </em>of Kally’s essence. “Whether she wants it or not, don’t weasel out of this one, Howe. And of course, safeguard her return home.”  He cleared his throat, dropping the pretense. “She, ah. Does not wish for me to complete this mission quickly,” he explained.</p><p>Maker. My heart was pounding just hearing it. That Nathaniel’s facsimile of Kallian didn’t want to drag me back. Hearing the shades of her tone, there, too - it wasn't absolute, but I knew that sort of thing wasn't easy to fake without pulling from a direct example. There was a compelling tenor to it; I could <em> almost </em>believe it. </p><p>Or maybe I just wanted to believe it. That I hadn’t thoroughly destroyed a treasured friendship by betraying then abandoning her. </p><p>My throat was thick with emotions, but I was being foolish. I couldn’t buy into this so easily - not on the word of a Howe, of all things. “That’s a lot of formality for Kally,” I pointed out, having seen how she’d often ordered her Wardens about. </p><p>He sighed faintly, eyes slipping to the side to break my gaze; apparently, out of embarrassment. “That has more to do with me than her. Early on, her rather relaxed style grated my nerves, so I made something of a habit of deliberately and catastrophically misinterpreting any informal order she tried to give. She’s since learned.”</p><p>I hated how easily I could buy that. Still. I shook my head. “It’s convincing, I’ll give you that much, but you’re forgetting one key element.” I stared him down, allowing some anger into my eyes. “Kally <em> likes </em> me. So. <em> Shoo. </em>”</p><p>He looked perturbed for a moment, and cleared his throat. That same Kallian Tabris impression rolled out again. “If she tries to send you off, remind her it’s my orders. And if she tries to argue out of that, just tell her this is my revenge.”</p><p>I narrowed my eyes, absorbing this new information, before a moment of realization led me to start cursing profusely. Nathaniel watched with the same largely even demeanor, granting only a single raised eyebrow to my increasing <em> well earned </em> exasperation. I was breathing heavily by the end. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance you’d clue me in?” he asked, when I’d clearly finished. “I confess I’m rather curious. What could you have done that’s so heinous she'd curse you with me?”</p><p>I was exhausted enough by the stress and emotional whiplash of the day that I just gave in, not even trying to hide the truth. “<em> She </em> wasn’t actually thinking of any incident. She just knew my own guilt would supply any number of them, and it did.”</p><p>“Ah. Clever. Wait, does this mean-”</p><p>He cut himself off as I growled and rubbed the bridge of my nose, more for affect than because I was actually nursing a headache. “Yes, Warden, I now believe you’re genuinely here on Kallian’s orders. Now c’mon. Let’s get going.”</p><p>He blinked, staring at me, but I didn’t feel like indulging that, so I just turned and walked forward without him.  After a moment, his soft padding footsteps caught up with me, and we walked a short distance in silence. Surprisingly, he was again the one to break it. “I must admit, that was far easier than I anticipated it being,” he murmured, but I wasn’t taking that bait. “Might I ask where, ah, we’re going?”</p><p>Fair enough. “That city’s <em> just </em> big enough, keep should have a rookery. I can bribe us in, if simple talking won’t do. You can write to Weisshaupt - directly if we're lucky, but either way I’ll pay to link through ravens to get this moving as fast as possible. Get those orders countermanded.”</p><p>“Ah.”  He fell silent for a moment, mulling. “You’re being unusually generous with information, it would be foolish not to at least try. How, exactly, do you propose to force me to write that?”</p><p>“<em>Force </em> you?” I stopped and turned to stare at him, raising an eyebrow, and after a moment, he stopped too. “I intend to hand you vellum and a quill and let you see to it yourself.”</p><p>“My lady-”</p><p>“You can protest these orders,” I pointed out.  “They’re not well in line with Warden standards. I realize it’s a bit muddled but politically-”</p><p>“I’m not going to do that,” he pressed, sounding annoyingly patient, and inexplicably firm.  </p><p>I stared at him, willing his damn calm expression to fall, wishing he would give me something - anything - to go on. “Nathaniel,” I pressed, making sure my voice was as calm and clear as possible. Using his name was a simple trick meant to mildly promote trust, and I doubted one he was unaware of, but every bit helped. “If you have a better suggestion, that’s fine, but you know you can get out of this, right? You’re not trapped?”</p><p>“I’m aware.” </p><p>I forced my hands to remain calm at my side, and tried not to openly demonstrate how much I was imagining strangling the man. “Do you, perhaps, want to clue <em> me </em> in? What’s your plan, here?”</p><p>“As I said. Protect you from all that might threaten you. And safeguard your return home, whenever that might be.” </p><p>“Warden!” I barked, irritation growing. “I’ll thank you to remember <em> I’m not an idiot. </em> You avoided me like the Blight the entire time I was in Vigil’s Keep. Am I to believe you’ve changed your mind, now?”</p><p>He broke my gaze, looking away, the ghost of frustration in his features, quickly hidden. “I-I assumed that was your preference.” I obnoxiously snorted at the idea that my <em> preference </em> had anything to do with it. “And I have orders, now.”</p><p>“Orders you <em> don’t have to follow </em> . Am I to be reassured that you suddenly, <em> magically</em>, tolerate my presence the moment I’m supposedly <em> vulnerable?</em>” </p><p>He frowned, and sighed, returning to look at me, grey eyes managing to somehow look <em> wounded </em> . As if <em> he </em> were the aggrieved party, here. “I have a thousand excuses and reasons why I want to stay, my lady,” he insisted. But then his eyes hardened, tension in his voice growing with my own. “And I imagine you’ll ignore all of them. So for your sake, allow me the rudeness of cutting to the one I know will be effective. You’re on your way to see Delilah.” <em> Shiiiiiit. </em> “You can’t justify denying me coming to see <em> my sister </em>, too.” </p><p>I gave him my best natural, bewildered expression, followed by a quick flash of relief shifting to a guarded expression. <em> Why would you think that, oh Nathaniel?  Well, I’m ever so grateful you haven’t figured out my real plans </em>, I hoped it said.</p><p>He sighed, clearly unconvinced, but at least mild exasperation peeked through his expression, so I’d won that much. “Must you maintain that pretense? This wasn’t difficult to figure out. If you actually had agents “in the area”, you wouldn’t’ve waited for my supposed permission to send them. And your <em> one </em>bit of reading material was Crown of Hearts, Delilah’s favorite book. I know that’s not to your taste.”</p><p>Dammit, it’d been such a dumb moment of weakness to pull it out in front of him. Then again; he’d been shifting through my pack for healing supplies, he probably saw it anyway. I thought I played it off then, but apparently not.</p><p>Well. Just because I was blown didn't mean I wouldn't continue trying. I drew back, mildly offended. “I’m not sure it’s wise for you to claim expertise on my <em> tastes </em>, Howe. I find myself rather liking romance these days. Believe it or not.” </p><p>His eyebrow twitched, but evidently he refused to be diverted. “You’re going to see Delilah. You will not convince me otherwise. I understand that you feel we are largely at odds with each other. But you yourself have conceded she’s the one thing that unites us.”</p><p>I crossed my arms, giving him a considering gaze. He glowered back, unmovable. I rolled my eyes. “Maker, you are so annoyingly stubborn sometimes,” I growled.</p><p>Genuine-seeming pique showed in his expression, and I was surprised he didn’t even try to hide it. “That’s not true, my lady. I am entirely willing to adapt myself to new information, should it prove worthy of consideration.”</p><p>I would <em> show </em> him how impressions were done. I lowered my voice, rolling it in my throat to get the proper rasp, taking on as looming as a stance as I could manage. “Rah, rah, I’m Nathaniel Howe, angry boy.” </p><p>His increasing exasperation was a gift, really. After the days I’d had, I owed myself that much. “I’m mad at the Wardens for saving the country from a Blight so I’m going to break into a heavily armed keep full of them to try and kill the <em> Hero of Ferelden </em> . This is a good idea that will help prove that the Howes are good people and Wardens are assholes. I gave this a great deal of thought. And I <em> certainly </em>paid attention to all the warning signs on the way.”</p><p>He clenched up, looking away, calm expression steadily fraying.  “Not my finest hour,” he allowed in a low rasp. “But irrelevant to this moment.”</p><p>“Warden-”</p><p>“My <em> lady </em>. You can’t possibly enjoy the pleasure of conversation with me so much you intend to drag this out.”</p><p>Self effacing humor? Here, now? Before I could stop it, a snicker tore from me. And just like that, tension was sliced in half. Surprise flickered through his face, the corner of his lips flickering up for a bare fraction of a moment before settling back into his regular stoic expression. But his voice was undeniably warmer when he next spoke.</p><p>“I’m coming with you, my lady. I <em> will </em> help protect you, whether you like it or not. My commander has ordered it, and more relevantly, I want to do it. How and when you choose to accept this is up to you.”</p><p>I folded my arms, mind whirling. Blast the stress of these past few days, nothing had been going right, my mind was in shambles. <em> Think, dammit! There must be a way out of this. </em></p><p>He watched me, warily. “That said, if you’re willing to give me any clues on how to set your mind at ease, and how I might make my presence more palatable, I’d appreciate it. I don’t look forward to all of my meals being poisoned for the foreseeable future, as I’m sure you’re plotting.”</p><p>“...I wasn’t thinking that.”</p><p>“What was it you said about blatant lies, again?”</p><p>“That it’s <em> rude, </em> Howe.”</p><p>“...fair play.”</p><p>I nearly groaned in exasperation, but too much about this made too much sense. This was too damn useful. Kallian had ordered him to protect me. And while Nathaniel was as good as any rogue at creatively interpreting orders, I found myself unwillingly believing him all the same. Kallian trusted him despite repeatedly learning how slippery rogues could be, and I, like it or not, trusted Kallian.</p><p>She had sent him with me. Not to retrieve me, not to force me back, but with me, as a nominal ally. And while I still didn’t know why Nathaniel wanted to do it for his own sake, he was right about one thing - I <em> did </em> believe he at least wanted to see Delilah. No help for it, then. That one was blown. I could use the extra set of eyes, and could worry about the after once we saw her.</p><p>Maybe we might even have a chance to settle things, now, if he proved willing to talk.</p><p>“I will consent to your presence until we reach Delilah’s with a few conditions, Howe,” I finally allowed, trying very hard to maintain a calm and even tone. “If you try and twist the intent of these rules, I’ll consider you acting in bad faith, and react accordingly.” He shifted, his stance coming to attention. “Do not jeopardize my anonymity. Do not try to force me to return before I am ready. Do not pry into my affairs, or compromise my actions with your order.” </p><p>He nodded.  “Reasonable. Kallian asked me to write from time to time, have you an objection to me letting her know you’re well?”</p><p>I shook my head.  “That’s fair enough. Anything makes it into your letters to the Wardens that I don’t want, though-”</p><p>“Then I have no objections to these, and would have abided by them anyway.”</p><p>I looked up at him then, and allowed my eyes to cool.  I forced myself to remember who he was. Son of Rendon. Brother of Thomas. The man who’d called me a whore to my face. I let that anger and cold calculation fill my expression. He watched, wariness entering his expression. “And most of all, do not get in my way.”</p><p>He watched my carefully, then, though he didn’t nod immediately, which spiked my stress.  “My lady-”</p><p>“That’s not a yes, Warden. This is simple.”</p><p>“I have no intention of getting in your way,” he finally said carefully, the weasel. “I just need you to understand that your well-being is my primary concern.”</p><p>“‘For your safety’ is the excuse your father used to lock her majesty in confinement, Howe,” I remind him softly, and guilt flashed through his features.</p><p>He raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, and I nearly snorted, if that wouldn’t’ve proved him right to treat me like a spooked horse. “My lady, I have no intention of stopping whatever plots or missions you have, nor do I anticipate those intentions changing. And I will <em> not </em> attempt to confine you. I am here to help you.”</p><p>“To <em> protect </em> me.”</p><p>“In as much as you need it, yes. Those are my commander’s orders. I just ask that you don’t put me in a position where my orders compel conflicting action.”</p><p>Ugh. He had to go and make it sound so reasonable, too. I waved a dismissive hand. “I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, then. Barring such a conflict, you agree?”</p><p>“...yes, my lady.”</p><p>“Great then<em> . </em> Guess that's that. Welcome aboard to the life of a fugitive, again. Please call me Elsa. What shall I call you?”</p><p>A ripple went through him, and he probed me, a hint of confusion on his features. “My...ah. Hm.” His question stuck in his throat as did, apparently, my name. </p><p>I gritted my teeth. Was it truly so hard for him? “Well, we can’t exactly go around calling each other ‘Howe’ or ‘Warden’ and ‘my lady’, now, can we? You did promise not to jeopardize my anonymity; my nickname is <em> not </em> that well known.”</p><p>“...and you’d really prefer me, of all people, to call you that?”</p><p>“It’s my <em> name </em>. With all the stress traveling together is going to put us under, I frankly don’t trust you to remember otherwise, in a heated situation.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t-”</p><p>“Is it <em> really </em> that hard?”</p><p>Something must have cracked through on my voice, then, a shade of emotion I hadn’t meant to impart. Surprise filled his eyes, and for a moment, he looked awkward. “Of course not. Elsa.”</p><p>Hearing my name in his voice once more, without battle or stress wresting it from him, moved me more than I cared to admit.  I nodded carefully, trying all the harder to bury my emotions. <em> Never show weakness </em>. “What shall I call you?”</p><p>“Hm.  I suppose...I’m not really known by my short name either. And even then, who’d be fool enough to think you’d willingly travel with <em> me </em>?”  A faint expression on his face, incomprehensible. A smile? Surely not. “Are you willing to call me Nate?”</p><p>I shrugged. This was no big deal. This was irrelevant, really. It hardly mattered. </p><p>It was just names.</p><p>“Nate, then.”</p><p>“Elsa.”</p><p>“...let’s get moving.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Arc 2: Bond</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two weary travelers settle in for food and rest</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland, </em> 29th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>The Fat Bronto was a reasonably well regarded inn, with only one real highlight to separate it by reputation. It wasn’t the dwarven proprietor - an oddity, that, but there was another inn that claimed the same. Nor was it that they watered down their ale with piss, or that it had a reputation for spontaneous brawls, or that the sheets were so rough it was asserted they were made entirely from lizard skin, and the beds were stuffed with rat teeth. Every inn in Kilpadraig had rumors that suggested the same.</p><p>It was clearly reasonably popular, with a good majority of the tables filled despite it not being a particularly notable drinking or travelling day. Laughter rang out through the inn, excited conversational snippets washing over me as I tuned half a ear in to listen, to get the feel for the energy of the place. People were stressed but happy, relieved to relax after long and hard day’s of work. The make up was largely several connected groups of friends but not so tightly interwoven that two strangers would stand out so much; it was an inn and tavern, after all, and temporary shelter to many a weary traveler. I felt my spirits slightly lifting, just at the general happiness of the place. Good, I could use it - today had been the absolute pits. Then again, most were here with friends, friends who clearly enjoyed each other’s company- and I just had Nathaniel. </p><p>Who hated me.</p><p>Frustrations seized my heart again, and I tried to push the feelings down, focusing on my steps, on not spilling the thick and laden bowls I carried with me. <em> I’m tired, hungry, and at the end of my rope. Deal with emotions later. </em> I smoothed my expression to calm.</p><p>But its relative popularity was a consequence of why I chose it, and not the reason. What set the Fat Bronto apart was apparently the food. It boasted thick stews made with actual herbs and vegetables, in addition to generous portions of meat. The fragrance alone had me convinced I’d made the right choice, and there was something at least mildly satisfying in bringing two heavy bowls laden with mouth watering soup back to the table Nate and I had claimed. I slid Nathaniel’s bowl to him and he looked wary, mixed in with the clear hunger. “This answer your question, Nate? Because <em> here’s </em>the reason I picked this inn.”</p><p>“I’m feeling rather baited right now,” he murmured.</p><p>“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a <em> very </em> good rogue. If I poisoned it, you should be able to tell.”</p><p>He spooned a generous helping, giving it a suspicious sniff.  “I couldn’t tell last time.”</p><p>“I’m a very good rogue too,” I agreed without shame.</p><p>To my surprise, his eyes crinkled slightly. Amusement? Surely not. Then, apparently losing his hesitation he dug in. I appreciated the caution, at least, but in this he had nothing to fear, though I doubted he’d take my word for it. I dug in as well, enjoying the rich and filling flavors of simple stew. After a couple days in stealthy and paranoid travel, this was one indulgence I assumed we both needed. It was a welcome nourishment, hot and savory, everything it had seemed to promise with its aroma. Rich chunks of succulent ram meat, packed with a healthy serving of onions, carrots, and a variety of earthy mushrooms, and a thick broth packed with flavor; I was pleased there was at least one thing I had managed to accomplish.</p><p>Nathaniel was never one to converse with his mouth full, and I didn’t trust my mood or temper until the food had had time to have its effect, so we ate in surprisingly comfortable silence for a time. I was finished and onto the far less impressive ale by the time Nathaniel had polished off his second bowl, apparently deciding he was now willing to speak. </p><p>“Are you ever intending to tell me how you managed that?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. “As I mentioned, you’re being unusually forthcoming. I’d be a fool not to at least try.”</p><p>I considered him for a long moment, and he graciously allowed his discomfort at my scrutiny show. There was an obvious hook here. <em> Has it occurred to you I’ve changed? It’s not like we’ve had many conversations since you’ve been back. Of course, if you follow through with your insane orders, that’s about to change. Are you prepared to spend so much time with me? </em> But nerves took me.  </p><p>This wasn’t something I needed to prod. What if he left? The idea bothered me more than I cared to admit. Which didn’t make much sense. Nathaniel was a terrifyingly dangerous rogue to have at my back. But if nothing else, I trusted Kallian. And while Kallian could be a flawed judge of character, she was no worse than myself, and I still had to admit I wasn’t entirely reasonable where Nathaniel was concerned.</p><p>I knew, in theory, that Nathaniel was a good man, and a good Warden. Regardless of his antipathy towards me, he’d see the mission through, which meant I could breathe at least a little easier. Travelling alone while trying to remain hidden was quite dangerous; travelling with a Warden companion lightened my burden immeasurably.</p><p>So. Sure. It was good for me. A little alarming, but ultimately good.</p><p>That didn’t mean it was good for him.</p><p><em> If I were a good person, I would poke at this, at you. You’re only here on Kallian’s orders. Whatever else you are, you’re a loyal Warden. You’re trapped, and wouldn’t claim otherwise, not when it’s your duty. </em> </p><p>
  <em> It would be wrong to use you just because Kallian twisted your arm, forcing you to be here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I ruined your family’s reputation and good name. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I destroyed your father. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I murdered your brother. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You hate me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So why are you here? </em>
</p><p><em> Why am I so angry at </em> you <em> ? </em></p><p>
  <em> And why do I want you to stay? </em>
</p><p>I was unprepared for the turbulent emotions that were coursing through me. I’d hoped a full stomach would help, that I’d be less drained, raw, and vulnerable. But apparently the stew hadn’t quite sunk in yet. </p><p>
  <em> I’ve had an awful day. I’m angry at you for forcing me to deal with this.  </em>
</p><p>I considered a moment. This was already so much harder than I wanted it to be; lying to myself would only make it more difficult.</p><p>
  <em> No. I need to be honest with myself. It’s more that I’m childishly angry at you for justly hating me. </em>
</p><p><em> Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! I can’t stop thinking about how much I missed you. All I want to do is to talk to you again.  </em> <em> But you hate me. You've already shown you want to be anywhere but near me. And you’ve probably had an awful day too. </em></p><p>“Is there a reason food was your priority, Elsa?”</p><p>
  <em> It’s going to sink in you’re stuck with me day and night, now, and I’d rather that bad news drop when you have a full stomach. </em>
</p><p>“Hm. Not that I don’t understand your quiet, but I feel I must ask. Are you alright?”</p><p>Oh. Right. He’d said something multiple times now and I was barely responding. That was rude. I shook my head, trying to chase the gloom away, centering my attention on the conversation in front of me. “Pah. Food matters when I have a companion such as yourself; I remember well Kally’s altered appetite. And, sorry. I was rather wrapped up in idle, maudlin thoughts,” I dismissed easily, smoothing my face, and working on shoving my emotions down, and thinking of calm lakes. I forced a smile, and I felt it looked natural. “I’m fine.”</p><p>I wondered what swirling thoughts were just behind those piercing eyes that stared at me so intently. The years had not made it any easier to read him. “About me?” he asked quietly. </p><p><em> Of course. You think I can think about anything else right now? </em> “Don’t be silly, Nate.”</p><p>“Ah,” he said quietly, closing his eyes and taking a breath.  “I wondered when it would take. It’s sinking in now, isn’t it?”</p><p>Wariness seized me, and I took another sip of the ale to buy time to think.  What had I missed? “That could be a number of things. What, precisely, are you referring to?”</p><p>Pained grey eyes met mine. “You’re trapped with me, now.”</p><p>I spent a moment just mulling over his statement, wondering what his angle was. “Don’t be daft. Your presence doesn’t bother me so much.”</p><p>“That’s...almost worse, really.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow. “Do you regret forcing your way into my company? I’ll not hold it against you if you want to leave. We can still reach out to Weisshaupt.”</p><p>“I don’t want to leave.”</p><p><em> Yes you do </em> .  “Of course not,” I agreed, taking another pull from my ale. <em> You’re a dutiful Warden who follows orders. </em> I gave him a friendly smile. “I simply hope you understand you’re free to do so at any time. I’ll do whatever it takes to help, and smooth that passage.”</p><p>He looked away, and there was a slight droop to his shoulders that was too blatant to be simply accepted at face value. “Suppose I shouldn’t expect otherwise,” he murmured. “But you’ll not get rid of me that easily.”</p><p>I held up a placating hand. “I’ve agreed it’s sensible to travel together until we get to Delilah.”</p><p>“And after?”</p><p>I shrugged. “Too far in the future.” I looked around casually; no one was paying attention, and our voices were too quiet to be overheard as it was. “I’m a fugitive now, my journey must be careful, and smart. And therefore slow. Who knows what will change in the time it takes to reach her?”</p><p>“You’re not, technically,” he pointed out, and with a questioning expression I invited elaboration. “A fugitive, I mean.”</p><p>I stared at him for a moment.  <em> That’s </em> what he took issue with? To my great surprise, I felt a grin coming on, and I worked to hide it before it could burst forth. Nothing about the situation was that funny to me, and yet.</p><p>Nathaniel had once spent an entire match schooling Ser Timothy - Maker rest his soul, the blithering idiot who thought he could take on the Hero of Ferelden - all because the foolish man had made a daft analogy. It was a mini, unofficial brawling tournament we’d organized, among some of the lordlings and young ladies of the Amaranthine while their parents mooted over some forgettable, important business. </p><p>Nathaniel was an excellent fighter, and hadn’t exactly intended to humiliate the poor young man so hard. But Nate didn’t even have to concentrate on the match while he trounced the fellow, explaining in detail why my mother was a raider, not a pirate, and there were some very important distinctions between the two, which he enumerated even as he dodged punch after punch, returning the lordling’s wasted attacks with far more efficient ones of his own.</p><p>Nathaniel being unable to let something incorrect stand was the calming center I needed, an island to cling to amidst all the chaos I was feeling. </p><p>Why did that lighten my frustrations so? Continuity really could be a good thing, I supposed.  It was...pleasant to realize some things about Nathaniel hadn’t changed, at least.</p><p> Nathaniel's eyes were burrowing into me, and I realized I'd gotten wrapped up in thoughts once more. “Oh?” I asked, though I didn’t really need clarification.</p><p>“<em> They </em> decided it would look bad if they admitted they didn’t know what you were doing. Everyone back home is under the impression you’re off on a mission and will return home with due haste soon. All of those after you right now aren’t authorized to use excessive force.”</p><p>“...including you?”</p><p>“Technically, I suppose, though Warden orders supersede all others. I was asked to help track you, after all. It’s not my fault I can interpret those orders with as loose a sense of urgency as I choose.”  He took a sip of ale, his expression of nonchalance so overt it practically screamed stress.  “Does that bother you?”</p><p>I chuckled faintly, understanding his real question. “I trust Kally, Nate.”</p><p>“Remarkably so,” he agreed cautiously. “Perhaps some day you might deign to tell me why, but I’ll not question my good fortune now.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, really? You’re surprised I trust the He-” I cut myself off, not wanting to risk stray, unique titles drifting to other tables. “...<em> her? </em>”</p><p>“Your bond is notable, and unusual,” he protested, a touch defensively. “I can’t help feeling curious. Especially as to how you two even came to meet.”</p><p>He couldn’t seriously expect it would be a good story to tell in the middle of a tavern, could he? “She was my, hm-” Guardswoman was too obvious “-hired muscle for a short while. Then, you know. Your father came for a visit and convinced us onto something of a different path.”</p><p>Nathaniel paused, and I could see the tension flare through him, but after a moment he resumed drinking. “It was rude to pry,” he allowed. “I shouldn’t stick my nose in your business.”</p><p>Maker’s breath, was I really that foolish? Of course dark humor was off limits. Not with that. Not with <em> him. </em> “Ah, you misunderstand me, but that’s my fault. My words were not gracious, considering all that lies between us,” I conceded, with as polite a voice as I could manage, and he stared at me with probing eyes. “It’s not a good tavern tale, though, and I was surprised you were asking at all. Did Kally really not tell you the story already?”</p><p>Very slightly, he relaxed. “Ah. Early on, we were not on good enough terms. Later, she made a point of teasing me with its existence, heavily implying she’d tell me if I asked. And so I never asked, to deny her that satisfaction.”</p><p>“And yet you’re not stubborn.”</p><p>“I…”  he trailed off, looking perturbed. “Hm, walked into that one. Perhaps I am more stubborn than I realized.”</p><p>I stared at him, thunderstruck by how neatly he’d pulled off proving otherwise. “Oooooh well <em> played </em>, Nate.”</p><p>“I hoped you might appreciate it.”</p><p>I tried not to smirk, tried not to let my obvious, stupid weakness and unwelcome nostalgia show.<em> Time to distract </em>. “Anyway, the short answer is I met her at her wedding.” I took a long drink from my ale, certainly not enjoying his increasing discomfort, the burning question I could see dancing in his eyes. I cheerfully signaled for another round of ale even as he stared me down, willing me to continue on my own.  </p><p>“Well played yourself,” he finally conceded in an explosive breath, exasperated. ‘You just baited me into exactly the same habit. And I <em> know </em> I can’t prod, now, so I can’t even alter that behavior. Still. She’s <em> married? </em>”</p><p>I tried not to grin. Nathaniel, still easy to tease? At least some parts of this journey promised to be enjoyable.  “I’ll tell you the story later, then,” I promised with a chuckle, mind whirling. He wouldn’t exactly care to hear stories about me, of course, but if he was curious about Kallian - were there any stories I could tell, scrubbed of the more obvious identifiers for such a public venue? It might serve as a peace offering, at least. “Well, you know she served as my hired muscle for a brief span. I could probably pull some fun stories of her from those months, if you’ve an ear.”</p><p>Eyes locked mine, surprised, and his lips pressed up in the faintest of smiles.  “I’d like that,” he agreed quietly.  “If you’re willing.”</p><p>I smiled back, warming. Sure, he was probably playing me, reaching out and using that as a hook to keep me from ditching him, concerned about fulfilling his mission. But did that really matter? I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he - not yet, anyway.</p><p>Lighter of heart, I launched into telling stories of Kallian and my short span of adventures and mishaps. And he, canny rogue that he was, played the part of a highly entertained audience, tension rising and falling with the stories, cracking smiles and even deigning to chuckle at the more humorous moments.<br/><br/><em> Maker, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. </em></p><p>But no need to expose that silly weakness to him, not now when he’d been forced into my company. I’d figure out how to free him from this binding Kallian had him under eventually. But in the meantime, I could allow the indulgence of at least trying to enjoy what time we had together. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Arc 2: Mess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Travelling with Elsa will clearly prove more difficult than Nathaniel anticipated, and he already anticipated quite the hardship.  But she continues to catch him by surprise, striking in ways he doesn't expect.</p><p>Even when she's not trying.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 29th of Pluitanis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Nathaniel tried not to pace, but the uncomfortable, lashing energy within him demanded an outlet, and he no longer had Oghren to spar. Grey Warden stamina could prove something of a curse, and despite not having slept in the last two days, on the hunt and trying to catch up with a target as slippery as Elsa, it wouldn’t let him rest now. He did not enjoy the experience of stress, preferring to solve problems to dwelling on them whenever possible, but Elsa was his glaring exception in this one.  How did one solve a problem like Elsa?</p><p>She was asleep in the room over, supposedly. Probably. Hopefully. </p><p>He’d almost protested when she’d asked for two rooms, before sanity reasserted itself and forced him to confront what he was trying to demand. But it was hard not to dwell on how easy it would be for her to slip away in the night, after sufficiently lowering his guard. Or for one of her pursuers to, against all odds, catch up with them here and abscond with her in her sleep. It was unlikely; there were many better towns that they should have checked first. Kilpadraig was several days' journey from Vigil’s Keep by circuitous road, even at a hard pace, and few would attempt the insanity of cutting through a heavily Dalish occupied forest like she had managed, and even then she’d made alarmingly good pace for one supposedly being stealthy for much of her journey.  </p><p>Not to mention badly wounded, thanks to him. Just another sin to the tally she might one day call him to account for. He hoped, anyway, the debt between them was still growing, and impossible to ignore. It was like an ogre, leaning and leering over every conversation they had, heavy breath a foul stench that choked out breathable air.</p><p>Nathaniel forced himself to focus, to consider whether or not they were in danger. Most likely not. No one should think to look here, first. No pursuers <em> should </em> be dogging their steps yet.</p><p>But it never paid to assume things would go well.</p><p>And they were going a little too well, weren’t they? </p><p>His heart thudded within him, remembering the smiles she’d flashed his way tonight. Fake to the last one, but it didn’t stop them from being convincing. </p><p><em> Lies are always easier to achieve when your target wants to swallow them, Nathaniel, </em> his father had instructed him, years ago.  </p><p>In this, Elsa was honing in on his exact weakness to an absurd degree. That she’d simply accepted his presence was already ludicrous. Now she had to pretend to enjoy his company as well? She didn’t trust him, wouldn’t trust him, <em> couldn’t </em> trust him. Right? He’d seen her terrified eyes, the monster she thought he was, and he’d not soon forget it. Beyond even that, her parting words were still seared into him like a brand. </p><p>
  <em> I’ll not spend another fucking moment in your miserable company, Howe.  </em>
</p><p>She hated his presence, he knew she did. So why was she pretending otherwise?</p><p>The night had gone well, too well. A hearty meal, plenty of ale, and though it had started difficult, as the ale flowed, he found himself in surprisingly pleasant, banter filled conversation with the one person he’d wanted to talk to more than anything. Elsa was a charmer, he knew that much, managing to tease out scintillating conversation with even the most boorish of partners. It was a skill she had plenty of time to hone, during the days when she was unwillingly pursued.  Clearly, she was doing the same with him, and he had to remind himself of that. </p><p>He didn’t have the luxury of lying to himself, not now. Not with her.</p><p>
  <em> “I simply hope you understand you’re free to do so at any time. I’ll do whatever it takes to help.” </em>
</p><p>He could read between the lines on that one: <em> Please, please leave. Please don’t force me into drastic measures. I’ll do anything to have you gone. </em> </p><p>Maker, he should just give in. He’d said there was nothing he’d deny her, and yet here he was, forcing her to spend time with him, and his miserable company. </p><p><em>Whether she wants it or not, don’t weasel out of this one, Howe</em>, his commander’s voice reminded him. </p><p>Right. Pointless to worry over that one.  He had orders, he was a Warden, and he’d not betray the order that had given him a chance to redeem his family’s name.</p><p>He considered pounding on her door, demanding she stop pretending, to give him the tongue lashing he knew must be simmering inside her. </p><p><em> Stress is getting to you. Lack of sleep is getting to you, </em> he reminded himself, trying to stop pacing. Still, he wasn’t wrong to be wary; it was the first night, after all, and the first time she’d rested in a population center. If someone caught up, if she’d been playing him after all - </p><p>A clatter arrested his attention from the window next to him, his precautionary noise making trap outside of her window sprung. Adrenaline coursing through him as he dashed out of his room, nearly tearing through her door too. Hesitation gripped him before he attempted such a breach - <em> think, you fool! Stop just blindly reacting! Stress is no excuse </em> - and he quickly knocked.</p><p>“One moment,” an annoyed Elsa responded, already a welcome relief. Clearly, then, she’d just opened the window - no one had attempted to enter her room. The sound of clicks and shifting objects suggested she was disabling the traps at her door. She opened the door, and he was grateful to see her pique with him was on more open display - which served to distract him, if only for a moment.</p><p>Her hair had been taken down for the night, cascading around her shoulders in gentle ripples. A thin shift barely hiding her soft, distracting curves. Unbidden and with startling speed, images surged through him, of tracing his fingers on her body, of embracing her as if she wanted it. Of the kisses they once shared, meaningless to her. Long suppressed, but forever locked away in his memory.</p><p><em>Control yourself, you fool of a Howe, lest she empty her stomach on you.</em> “I…” Nathaniel trailed off, focusing very intently on her eyes, understanding all too well the danger of letting his gaze drift.</p><p>She waited for a moment, pique growing, before filling the silence for him. “Just heard a noise and got worried, I suppose? Never mind that you’re clearly the one who set a trap outside my window.”</p><p>“I…” he tried again, swallowing.  <em> Do not. Look down. Better to slit your own throat than look down.  </em></p><p>“I’m not going to run, Nate. I just wanted some fresh air.”</p><p>“That wasn’t - I understand,” he finally managed, desperate to get his disparate thoughts together and not continue falling apart like a fool. <em> My biggest weakness indeed. </em> “I thought you were asleep, not that you were running. I was worried someone had entered - which is why I set that trap in the first place. You’re still being pursued, after all. You’re safe, then?”</p><p>“Oh.”  She sighed, anger slowly draining from her expression, though clearly that was just her hiding it. “More sensible, I suppose, or at least good enough I prefer to accept it. I’m safe. I woke up, Nate. It happens sometimes. Better get used to that.”</p><p>“Of course. I meant no disrespect.”</p><p>“...Was there anything else you needed?”</p><p>“No.  You’ll call out if something happens?”</p><p>“Yes, Nate,” she sighed with weary annoyance. “Goodnight. Get some sleep. We’ll both feel better in the morning.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Elsa.” With the door shut in his face, he headed back to his room, fighting in vain against the surging thoughts that bubbled within him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 10 years ago </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The lands surrounding Vigil’s Keep were perhaps at their most beautiful in the spring, Nathaniel had always felt. Surely that had a simple explanation, of course; after a long winter where the landscape inevitably came to be dominated by increasingly muddy snow, the triumph of new growth and flowering buds would naturally be a welcome relief to the eyes.  </p><p>It didn’t lessen his appreciation for it, though, casting a glance over the verdant plains dotted with new wildflowers, and the flourishing forest. Most beautiful of all, of course, was the lake, dotted with lilies by the edges and surrounded by willows just beginning to grow their leaves, providing canopy and shade to all who might think to shelter there.  Hints of vibrant auburn hair could be seen through the branches even as he approached; Elsa was sitting on the ground, overlooking the lake. He was suddenly reminded, vividly, of their cuddles in the snow over this past winter, and had to work to suppress the blush. </p><p>“There you are, Kitten,” he teased. She turned to wave at him, but the unhappiness in her eyes was plain to read. Concern welled within him. “What’s got you looking so distressed?”</p><p>“Poor self control, apparently,” she groused, and in a moment, every trace of gloom vanished from her face, like snow near a warm fire. She gave him a sunny smile, her eyes sparkling so delightedly Nathaniel honestly had to question himself, wondering if he was sure he had just seen them full of anger and anxiety.  “Is this better?”</p><p>Nathaniel chuckled faintly. “In a manner of speaking. But it’s irrelevant. I’d’ve supposed you were distressed without the crack in your expression - you’re out here alone, when your brother is back at the castle visiting. And we’re having pheasant tonight!”</p><p>“Oren needed a nap, as do his parents!” she protested, still smiling brightly.  “They’re not exactly used to travel, you know. I’m sure they’ll be up soon, but no need for me to chat a tired papa’s ear’s off.” </p><p>“What’s wrong, though?” he pressed, and she smiled wider, chiding his prying. “Come now, Kitten. You don’t need to pretend with me.”</p><p>She wrinkled her nose, and apparently gave in. “Paaaah,” she groaned, flopping back on the ground.  “It’s really rather silly, Nate. I’ve already lost all my dignity flounced about like this, must I really embarrass myself in front of <em> you </em>further?”</p><p>“You don’t <em> have </em> to,” Nathaniel mused, “But I admit, I don’t like to see my lady in distress. I’d like to help.” He considered for a moment before lying on the ground next to her.  </p><p>“Nathaniel!” she protested with a chuckle. “Think of your dignity! Your father will ring down <em> such </em> a scold on you if he sees you like this.”</p><p>She wasn’t wrong, and warily, Nathaniel cast a glance back to the castle walls, even though he knew his father was busy, and unlikely to find them out here. “Then it’s a good thing he’s not out here, isn’t it?”  At this she let out a delighted giggle, her spirits clearly lifting. “Is there anything I can do to help?”</p><p>“Nate, just having you here already makes me feel much better.” Nathaniel felt his heart warming, but he recognized a diversionary compliment when he heard one. </p><p>“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he repeated quietly. “But you <em> can </em> tell me whatever you want to. I promise not to tease you.”</p><p>“Such a rare promise indeed! I’d be a fool not to take thorough advantage of you.”</p><p>“If it makes you smile so, my lady, then I’ve thoroughly benefited myself.”</p><p>“You <em> flirt </em> ,” she protested with amusement, propping herself up so she could swat him on the arm.  “You’ve got to be careful with that, handsome as you are. You’ll give a lady <em> ideas </em>.”</p><p>He chuckled to cover his wince, taking the hint, though it was nice she called him handsome. Nice, but just polite. “You have my apologies, then, Kitten, I’ve no desire to increase your distress.”</p><p>“Paaah,” she dismissed, theatrically gesturing dismissively. “It’s silly anyway. I should know better than to let Thomas get to me by now.”</p><p>Silk covered steel. “Thomas?” Nathaniel repeated carefully. “What’s he done now?”</p><p>“Oh, dear, not <em> that </em>tone of voice,” Elsa drawled, giving him a half smile. “Don’t you go all protective on me, it was just teasing.”</p><p>“If he’s distressing you -”</p><p>“Nate, it’s <em> fine. </em> Put your hackles down, please.”  She grimaced faintly, apparently coming to a decision. “You’ll make this worse than it is, so I suppose I’ve no choice, now. He just laughed when he found out I’ve never kissed anyone, pointed out I’m going to be <em> awful </em> my first time. And I’m bothered ‘cause I think he has a point.”</p><p>A funny feeling began to form in Nathaniel’s stomach, attention arrested. “Ah. Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”</p><p>“Paaaah, not you too!” she groaned, flopping back on the grass. “No! I’ve been focused on training since coming here, not - not <em> girly </em> things like that. And I was only 13 when I started! Is that so strange?”</p><p>“Not at all,” he quickly insisted, sitting up.  “I was surprised. You’ve made something of an impression on several young men.”</p><p>“What about you?” she diverted, nose wrinkled once more in annoyance, apparently not wishing to dwell on her admirers. “You’re old-”</p><p>“Well, thanks! I’m only 5 years-” </p><p>Her eyes sparkled with amusement, grin forming. “-old<em> er, </em>yes. And very handsome,” she quickly insisted, as an obvious peace offering. It didn’t fail to make his cheeks heat though. </p><p>“You hypocrite,” he teased her. “All that ranting about how frivolously your admirers praise your beauty, and here you are, casting it -”</p><p>“-very deservedly! This isn’t even flattery, it’s just a relevant fact! There’s a <em> difference </em>,” she insisted, the soul of innocence, though her eyes were dancing with laughter. She reached over, and flicked his nose. “And no diverting, Nate! This is important -you know, to me! How many people have you kissed?”</p><p>Nathaniel cast back in his mind, uncertain. Only one lady had really caught his attention of late, but he’d had a few relatively chaste dalliances before she’d come to arrest his entire focus.  “A few? It’s been awhile.” The lack of precision irked him, and he considered searching his memories more thoroughly, but it seemed to be the answer she was looking for.</p><p>“Paaaah! You and Thomas both, then! I wonder if Delilah’s kissed a bunch.”</p><p>“I should hope not!”</p><p>“What, it’s fine for <em> you </em> two to kiss others, but not Delilah?”</p><p>“She’s a lady, Kitten. Ladies should be treated with respect.”</p><p>“Oh, so you were disrespecting all the ladies <em> you </em> smooched?”</p><p>“Kitten,” he protested laughing. “I’ll not take that bait, I know how these arguments go.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Why does it matter, anyhow?” he asked, turning the tables and interrupting her. “Has there-” he nearly choked when he realized what he was about to ask, but hesitation would betray him far worse. “-even been anyone you <em> wanted </em>to kiss?”</p><p>Her eyes flickered to the side. “Not really,” she murmured, and Nathaniel didn’t quite believe her. He shoved down the feelings of jealousy; they were not appropriate, and based on assumptions anyway. </p><p>“Then, does it matter?”</p><p>“I...suppose not,” she agreed with a sigh, flopping back into the grass.  “I just...what if Thomas is right? What if it’s a skill you’re supposed to learn, and I’m just going to be bad at it? I just, I’m going to embarrass myself horribly the first time I actually try, and then that’ll be all anyone ever talks about. ‘Oh, did you hear about the bandits kidnapping people on the North Road?’ ‘Forget that, did <em> you </em> hear about the Cousland girl? I heard she’s just the silliest kisser.’ ‘I heard she uses her lips just <em> all </em> wrong.’ ‘I heard she has mabari breath.’ ‘I heard she <em> bites </em>.’” </p><p>Despite himself, Nathaniel was chuckling at her colorful impressions and animated delivery. “I doubt it would be so bad. And some people might like the biting.”</p><p>She snorted in amusement, giving him a wide grin, which nevertheless quickly lost its luster. “Still. Should I practice? Maybe when we’re back in Amaranthine, I could sneak out with Delilah, and...I don’t know.”</p><p>“How would you even - surely you don’t mean just, go out and kiss random commoners, do you?” he asked, ugly jealousy surging in him.  </p><p>“Well, I can’t exactly practice on other nobles, they’ll think I’m agreeing to be courted,” she grumped. “Commoners <em> probably </em>wouldn’t have such expectations.”</p><p>He considered protesting; plenty of nobles shared meaningless kisses. Then again, that wasn’t true of the two teyrns’ children; Fergus was happily married, Anora engaged, which left only Elsa unattached. And though she wasn’t the heir - yet, anyway - that was enough of a lure that it had started to garner her some rather unwelcome attention from their peers. “You have a point,” he mused slowly.  “But I’d think father would be rather furious if he found out. He’s your guardian, he has a responsibility to protect you, after all.”</p><p>“You know, if he keeps <em> protecting </em>me so well, I’m going to stay as weak as he thinks I am. How am I supposed to learn to dodge if I don’t have the chance to take a hit?”</p><p>“Kitten-”</p><p>“I know, I know, no need to defend your father, Nate, that’s bait <em> I’m </em> not taking. It’s his duty, you’re not wrong. And it’s good at least <em> some </em> nobles take their responsibilities seriously,” she agreed with a sigh.  “Pah. Guess I’ll just have to resign myself to being humiliated the first time it matters, then. Another bit of delightful gossip that people will spread, embarrassing my family instead of doing anything <em> useful </em>with their skads of leisure time.”</p><p>“Are you really worried about this?” he asked carefully, a foolish notion ceasing hold of him.</p><p>“I suppose. Maybe I shouldn’t be. See, I knew it, shouldn’t’ve let Thomas get under my skin. You think it’s silly, don’t you?”</p><p>“Well,” Nathaniel said carefully, throat dry. Was he mad? Was he truly trying to suggest this?  “I have an idea, but I’m rather worried you might take offense.”</p><p>She gave him a wary look, sensing a trap. “I make no promise but to keep an open mind.”</p><p>“Kitten…”</p><p>“Fiiine! If you have an idea, and I believe it’s offered in good faith, I promise not to be offended.”</p><p>Good enough, he supposed.  He took a deep breath, trying to banish nerves. “Well. If it’s practice you need…” he trailed off, nerves seizing him. Flirting had already embarrassed her, wasn’t this a step too far?</p><p>“...that’s the essential problem, yes,” she responded slowly. “Where...are you going with this, Nate?”</p><p>“Ah, never mind. It’s a foolish notion.”</p><p>“Nate!” she protested, aghast. “You can’t pique my curiosity like that, what is it?”</p><p>Hm. <em> That </em> tone of voice. She’d pursue this relentlessly, now. Better to give in, or he’d make it seem a bigger deal than he preferred. He shrugged languidly, casually; this was a small thing. “What about me? I could help you practice.” </p><p>“What - oh!” she stared at him with wide, unreadable eyes for a moment, her cheeks turning pink.</p><p>“I mean no offense,” Nathaniel quickly filled in, nerves taking him. “I just thought, I’m already helping you train, why not offer-”</p><p>“You don’t mind?” she interrupted him, brown eyes honing in on him, probing, curious, but absent of the offense he’d assumed.</p><p>He blinked, staring at her. “You’re wi - I mean, ah. You’re not offended?”</p><p>She beamed, as if she couldn’t hear his heart pounding through his chest. As if she were delighted by him. “Of course not! It’s a capital idea. I trust you far more than most, and you already promised not to tease me if it turns out I’m horrid at this. You’re. Um. Alright with this? It’s not too, you know, weird?”</p><p>Nathaniel stared at her, distracted, momentarily uncertain he was hearing correctly, blood was roaring so loudly in his ears. “No, it’s ah. It’s fine. I said I wanted to help, didn’t I?”  She beamed wider then, standing up and grabbing his hand, pulling him, unresisting, to his feet. </p><p>Face to face. Brown eyes stared at him expectantly, drowning him. “Elsa…”</p><p>“Nervous, now? You still can back out, you know,” she informed him, grin teasing.</p><p>He pulled her closer, then, their noses practically touching. “I’m not nervous,” he lied calmly,  over the objections of his pounding heart. “Are you?”</p><p>Rather than answer, she leaned in and kissed him. Emotions surged through him, feeling her soft lips against his, a thousand daydreams and desires come to startling life. He responded in a moment, kissing her back, heat pooling in his belly, searing him with delight. </p><p>“This is ok?” she asked, pulling back just slightly to his distress, her breath hot on his lips.</p><p>“This is, this is good,” he murmured back, curling his hand behind her head and pulling her back in. She giggled as he kissed her again and he grinned, cracking an eye to see her sparkling grin and rosy blush. “You’re alright?”</p><p>“I am getting practice kisses from a handsome man,” she murmured back, her voice warm and enticing.  “I’m quite alright.”</p><p>“Now who’s a flirt,” he murmured against her lips, bringing up a hand to stroke a lock of hair from her face, enjoying its silky waves twining around his fingers, every bit as soft as he’d always imagined. He traced his lips teasingly across her mouth.</p><p>“Well,” she pointed out, her whisper beguiling. “In my defense. We are kissing.”</p><p>“Touché.” </p><p>She chuckled, a wicked, teasing glint in her eyes that inflamed his feelings all the more. “Orlesian fop.”</p><p>“Who’s the bard, here?” </p><p>“How very dar-” she began, cut off as he surged to kiss her once more, and that seemed to be the extent of her objections.</p><p>In the gentle breeze carrying the scent of lilies and lilacs, under the swaying branches of their favorite willow tree, they continued to kiss. Each sweet kiss was full of promise and indulgent delight. Soft giggles and pleased sighs tickled Nathaniel’s ears, desires stoked and surging. Emboldened with her clear pleasure, he deepened his kiss, breaking off at her gasp. He pulled back a fraction, quickly searching her face for signs of distress. “Sorry, was that too far?”</p><p>He was most certainly not imagining her blush, as a deep shade of red had overtaken her face.  “I’m - no, it’s - “</p><p>“Elsa? Nathaniel?” Fergus’s voice called out from the distance, instantaneously converting all of Nathaniel’s growing pleasure into stark terror. This was <em> bad </em>. He surged back quickly, eyes casting about, hoping the scene wasn’t quite so obvious as he supposed. The tree had at least partially blocked the approaching heir’s view; it should be fine, it had to be fine. Maker, he had let himself get distracted, that Fergus was so close. </p><p>Had he seen anything?  Would he bring word to his father, ensuring the teyrn whisk his daughter back home, safely away from such an uncontrolled lecher? Would this be the mistake that took her away from him? </p><p>He couldn’t bear the thought. This had to be fixed, immediately.</p><p>“Lord Fergus!” he hailed, perhaps a touch too enthusiastically in overcompensation. <em>Oh Maker, oh Maker, I’m in trouble. He’s going to kill me. Or try to take Elsa away.</em> He tried to control his breathing, panic would serve no one. He could still practically feel Elsa’s lips on him, burning marks he was sure were visible. <em>Think. Focus! Kisses don’t leave marks. He can’t tell. Surely he can’t tell. </em>“Come to collect us for dinner?” Good, at least his voice was even, and hadn’t betrayed him yet.</p><p>Fergus gave a friendly, wide smile, eyes flickering between the two.  “I <em> was </em> anyway.  I hope I’m not <em> interrupting </em> something?”</p><p><em> Deny deny deny. </em> “Of course not, Lord Fergus,” Nathaniel protested, reproachfully. “You’re more than welcome to join our conversation, I’d be honored.”</p><p>“<em> Conversation </em>, huh?” Fergus teased.  Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed, considering. His grin was too wide, humor too evident.  No brother would be acting so calmly if he’d actually seen them kissing. He’d seen nothing; he was stabbing wildly hoping to find a target. </p><p>“Oh come off it, Ferg, what are you trying to say?” Elsa demanded, folding her arms, though she grinned, as if relaxed.  </p><p>“You were standing awfully close together for just a conversation. Almost looked like more was going on. Should I be concerned, Nathaniel?”</p><p>“Lord <em> Fergus, </em>” Nathaniel protested, his voice the perfect pitch of aggrieved offense. “Have some faith. We were just talking. I’d never do anything so shameful with your sister.”</p><p>He gestured placatingly. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry for teasing. Relax. Anyway, Elsa, Oren’s up and demanding to see you.  Can I pry you away?”</p><p>There was a moment of silence. “Of course, Fergus,” Elsa said, even toned. And with far more poise than he realized she was capable of, Elsa walked passed him, not even meeting his eye. Her blush was largely faded, and though he searched, there wasn’t the slightest hint of what had transpired between them on her face. He was impressed; then again, perhaps he had to allow it just didn’t mean as much to her as it did him.</p><p>Well, regardless. Fergus turned to follow his sister, Nathaniel allowed himself a small sigh of relief.</p><p>They’d gotten away with it.  </p><p>Thank the Maker things had gone so well.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present day </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Of course, things hadn’t gone well after that, as he distantly recalled they had a cooling of even their friendship for a time. Nascent hopes of a repeat had quickly died, and they both came to agree it was best if they mutually forgot about that moment. If Nathaniel were sensible, if he had any self control whatsoever, he’d dwell on that, and not drift in such tempting memories. She was not for him. That was abundantly, absurdly clear. Their lives had separated, and their bond had shattered, thanks to his foolishness. Friendship was already a distant dream; anything beyond that was comical farce, and he was the punchline.</p><p>Besides. Even if he hadn’t been so foolish, hadn’t proved himself his father’s son - she was a noble, and heir to the throne.  He? He was just a Grey Warden. What could he offer her?</p><p>Such silly dreams had to be rejected in whole, lest they worm their way into his heart.</p><p>Or so he told himself, anyway. But hope was a stubborn thing, and feelings not so easily denied.  And try as he might, Nathaniel couldn’t stop himself from drifting in those memories, a nostalgic anchor dragging him to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Arc 2: Fight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Setting out once more, Elspeth finds she can endure no more. Her polite mask shatters, and she decides to settle things the Ferelden way: with fists.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland, </em>  3rd of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>In the few days where we lingered in Kilpadraig and gathered our supplies, I’d tried to sneakily trick Nathaniel into liking me again, or at least establish some baseline for courteous interaction. I told stories, or tried chatting. I’d talk his ear off under the thin pretext he’d given me of wanting to know more tales about his commander. </p><p>It would seem to work, too, at least when they began. He’d start responsive, rare smiles warming his face, seeming to light up. And with it, I foolishly let hope rise too, letting myself believe it wasn’t just projection. </p><p>But at some point, without fail, the light would dim, his expression would fall, and I was left floundering, wondering what I had done, what I had said. </p><p>Was it bringing up Delilah? Was it my attempts to hint I really genuinely had his best interests at heart, and wanted him freed of his binds? <em> What?  </em></p><p>But no. I forced myself to face that, most likely, his problem was not with my words, but with remembering he was talking with <em> me </em>. And eventually, the hurt of that rejection was too much to keep attempting. Hopes I shouldn’t’ve had in the first place, turned against me, cutting me all the deeper for my failures.  </p><p>Fucking rogues. This was why you didn’t turn your back on them, or let your guard down.  </p><p>Frustrations churned in me even as we finally set out, leaving the city early in the morning, packs and minds full, but lips empty. We kept to the road for a time, as long as the city was in sight at our back. </p><p>Terraced farmlands and rolling hills were common, around here, the lower rocky plains less kind to crops and generally left for grazing herds. For a time, we were accompanied by those that had left at the same time as us, workers and travelers and traders, and their pleasant banter was a helpful distraction I tried to focus on, participating where appropriate, anything to distract myself from my inner anxieties.</p><p>The spring sun glowed cheerfully in the sky, incongruent to my stewing thoughts, inconsiderately pretending the world a brighter place than it was. At least the stink of various beasts of burden was a more appropriate reflection of my foul mood. But even that soon drifted, and eventually even those on foot and keeping pace with us took a different road. It was late in the afternoon by the time we were alone, with nothing but silence to accompany our footsteps. </p><p>That silence screamed at me, each plodding step a reminder of my failures, a blazing torch of the hostility between us, the air choked with it. Well, that, and the scent of wildflowers. I was fairly confident the hostility was mutual, though Nathaniel’s facade of calm wouldn’t crack so easily. </p><p>“You-” he began, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Of course he noticed, a slight tremor in his expression, unreadable.  Secretly laughing at how jumpy I was, probably.  Too polite to show it.</p><p>“Didn’t think anything would break your silence,” I covered, forcing my voice to take on an amused drawl.</p><p>“...were you testing me?”</p><p>No, but just because I had nothing to hide - in this, anyway - didn’t mean I’d hand over information so easily. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”</p><p>“...I just, you mentioned when we were less exposed, you might tell me the story of how you and Kallian met in the first place…” he trailed off, eyes shifting to the side, discomfort plain.</p><p>I cast him a glance, and sighed. Genuine curiosity, I could buy, but his hesitance - his <em> awkwardness </em> around me - all but screamed how little he wanted to do this. This, therefore, was mostly just him being polite.  Fair enough, I wasn’t exactly eager either, I didn’t feel quite ready to open myself up to hurt again. “Maybe later, Nathaniel, I’m not in the mood for stories right now.”</p><p>A slight tremor in his features before they smoothed to calm. “Fair enough, I apologize for the imposition.”</p><p>I froze for a moment, white hot <em> anger </em> flaring through me. This? <em> This </em> he’d apologize for? This <em> nothing </em> ? I clenched my fists, breath stolen from me, forcing myself to think of calm and placid lakes.  I could see his steps falter, and worked hard, hoping I managed to smooth my expression by the time he glanced back, wondering what was holding me up.  “Think nothing of it,” I said quietly, voice frostier than I wanted. <em> If he knows you’re angry, he’ll just be more uncomfortable. More desperate to escape. </em></p><p>“I’ve offended you.”</p><p>“Of course not, Nate.” </p><p>“Elsa-”</p><p>“Think we should take a break, now?” I diverted instead, as we hadn’t even broken for lunch and it was well past midday. The days were lengthening, but the sun had already made its approach to the western hilltops; we’d almost certainly need to find a place off road to make camp at some point, but the hills seemed bereft of good cover. I missed the forest, where it was easier to hide at night.</p><p>He hesitated, posture unreadable, face unreadable, grey eyes searching, which was as much hint of his inner thoughts as I was going to get. “If you like.”</p><p>Nathaniel was less likely than most to be distracted with obvious hooks to talk about himself, but I knew he wasn’t above bawdy jokes and innuendo, no matter how his knight master had tried to train it out of him. I plastered on a teasing grin, as if nothing mattered, trying to convey I was in good spirits. “Ah, right, Warden stamina. You could probably keep going for several days straight, huh?” He shrugged. I wasn’t really surprised he didn’t take the bait. Just a little disappointed, is all. “Do you not get hungry, too?”</p><p>A loudly grumbling stomach betrayed him, and he had the generosity to look slightly abashed. “I have plenty of travel rations, should it prove necessary, but I would not object to finding a place to eat a meal and stretch. There’s a clearing with a few suitable rocks, over there?”</p><p>“Perfect,” I agreed, my voice overstuffed with false cheer. </p><p>We settled in, and I tried not to look too grateful to shed my laden pack, eating a simple meal of chewy breads, tangy cheeses and tart fruits. The sound of chewing, I soon realized, was more awkward still than silence. As the noises pounded in my skull, relentlessly beating at my eardrums, I began to despair of retaining the last shred of my sanity on this journey.</p><p>How much could I really endure, here? Nathaniel’s silence was a potent weapon, shredding my self control, and I felt like a cat, all lashing energy and sudden, inexplicable pique. I nearly growled in frustration. I barely noticed when Nathaniel tossed me the waterskin, and fumbled for a moment in catching it, hands clearly shaking.</p><p>“Ah, sorry-” he began, and at this easily cast apology, something in me snapped.</p><p>“Will you <em>stop that? </em>” </p><p>A good noble would be ashamed of how much growl manifested in my tone.  I felt both my father and Rendon’s stern gaze looking at me.  Fuck the later but - well, for all he was a monster, it had to be admitted, he was a very cunning man.</p><p>“Yes,” he said immediately, the faintest brush of alarm in his features. “But for clarification, stop what?”</p><p>As if he didn’t know, as if he didn’t - no. I was being unreasonable. I was taking my anger out <em> on </em> him, the person who least deserved it.  </p><p>Well, maybe not least. He’d definitely hurt me too. But he certainly didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of everything I was feeling right now. He had a right to want me away from him.</p><p>Dammit. <em> Dammit. </em> </p><p>Too much emotions, too much energy battered at me, and I was near breaking point. I’d never wanted to punch his face or sob on his shoulder quite so much. I couldn’t shatter though, not in front of him.  He thought so little of me already, did I really need to reveal I was crazy?</p><p>And I tried. I honestly did. I would have thought that days of sleep and rest and time to come to grips with my new circumstances would have settled me, but curse Nathaniel Howe and his ability to get under my skin. </p><p>Lashing energy filled me, a wild, cursed seed of an idea seizing in my brain, burrowing through my thoughts with its embedded roots. For a moment I stood on the precipice, tottering between calming myself back down, and unleashing my rage on a man who demonstrably did not deserve it.</p><p><em> It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault! </em> I tried begging my anger, but the man’s easy apologies for minor infractions was more than I could endure. I knew I had no choice. I hopped to my feet, ignoring his alarm, tugging off my travelling cloak, checking that my hair was still securely tied back. “You once said you’d deny me nothing. Does that still hold?”</p><p>He stared at me, alarm in his eyes, taking a moment to respond.  “I - don’t want to betray my order, Elsa…” he trailed off slowly, his voice taking on the faintest hint of pleading.</p><p>I shook my head, finally finished stripping off the necessary weapons and gear, down to just my shifts, bracers, and leather armor. “Not that. Spar me.”</p><p>“...what?”</p><p>I gestured a hand around. “Big clearing. No one’s near. Spar me.”</p><p>“Ah…alright.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The first match ended resoundingly in my favor, and far too quickly for my liking.</p><p>“Underestimating me that badly? Unusual,” I growled at him, offering him a hand back up.  “Do you really think so little-”</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you, Elsa,” he retorted, his voice winded and slightly impatient, refusing my offer and popping to his feet on his own. “But if you need to use me as a punching bag to get out - whichever this is, then I <em> beg </em>you, just do it.”</p><p>“I’m not - that’s not why - this isn’t about revenge, Nate!”  I sputtered, squaring up again.</p><p>Reluctantly, he raised his fists, watching me carefully. “Fine, then. You’re not angry with me, of course you’re not, you’d never betray otherwise.”</p><p>I knew a losing battle when I saw one, so I went for the cheap, diversionary tactic. I charged in, faking out several attacks to demand a response, and waiting for the moment he was mid transition to quickly strike out. He danced back, surprised but off balance; it was a close thing. “Oh, like you can’t say the same,” I finally retorted.</p><p>“I’m -” he cut off as I charged in again, this time leaving an obvious opening he refused to take. As a result, he had no choice but to weather my sudden fury of blows against his guard, which to be honest I’d never anticipated connecting in the first place.  And now I was certain; that asshole had no intention of fighting me back. </p><p>My pique rose. “No response? What, is this just trying to guilt me further? Point out how much I’ve harmed your family, how <em> aggressive </em> I am?”</p><p>“That’s not why-” he cut off again at an even wilder, open and swinging punch, which no one in their right mind should use in that situation, but I had to know. Was he seriously, seriously refusing to even fight back? Did he really think me so weak and frail?</p><p>Yes, evidently, as while my wild blow didn’t connect, nor did he punish me, as he twisted against its passage, dancing back.</p><p>“You <em> ass </em>,” I hissed, and his lips snapped shut, polite face a blank stone wall as far as I was concerned. I drew back in, to a much more careful position, hands raised defensively, waiting to see if he’d even try my defense. I watched him mirror my position, and for a long moment we circled each other, tense and waiting. “Not going to even pretend to fight back?”</p><p>“Is this what you need?” he finally asked. “Do you want me to hit you that badly?”</p><p>
  <em> I want you to stop treating me as if I’ll shatter. I want you to let out the anger you must be hiding. I want you to stop pretending you don’t hate me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want you to tell me what I need to do to untangle this knot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want you back. </em>
</p><p>“What I want is for you to stop holding back,” I said carefully.</p><p>“Hypocrite,” he said quietly.</p><p>I took a deep breath, and blew it out, understanding his meaning. “Fair. I’ll stop holding back if you will.”</p><p>There was a ripple in his shoulders now, a tension in his back, and his threat level suddenly rose. I met his gaze, nerves shaking me, and I tried not to openly swallow, my throat suddenly dry. Was this a good idea? Was this what I really wanted?  Grey eyes took me in, and he nodded slowly. “You still have health poultice, right?”  </p><p>I was a good brawler, but I knew Nathaniel was a killer, taking far better to his father’s training in assassination techniques much better than I ever had.  If he wanted, he could end it here. Everything I’d tried to accomplish, all for naught.</p><p>But.</p><p>I trusted Kallian, right?</p><p>She wouldn’t send him after me if my death was all he really wanted. Besides, he’d had <em> ample </em> opportunity to achieve that.  </p><p>And he was a good man.</p><p>Fears screamed at me, but didn’t I owe him this much? To let him bring out the worst of his bile once more. And if I couldn’t draw out his bile in words, at least he might air his grievances in physical form.  </p><p>Some wounds just needed their venom drained before they could be healed.</p><p>“Whatever happens, whatever you do, I’ve got the tools needed to heal it,” I assured him quietly.</p><p>And for a moment, he looked lost, eyes pained, but that light dimmed, and he nodded, expression cold once more, staring at me with probing eyes, seeing all my weaknesses.  “Ready?” he asked quietly.</p><p>I almost chuckled faintly, but just quietly raised my fists, taking the moment with the gravity it was due.  “As much as I can be.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Nathaniel had always been a transcendently good rogue. I wasn’t lying when I’d told Anora he’d been my superior, and to be honest, I usually considered myself fairly talented and certainly had back then. But no matter how hard I worked, now matter how blistered my hands got from practicing my daggers, no matter how much he helped me, trained with me, he always stayed one step ahead, with a quickness, grace, stealth and dexterity I could always envy and admire in one.  </p><p>Upon reflection, I realized it shouldn’t <em> really </em> surprise me that he’d caught up and surpassed me in archery, a skill I’d begun to lean on more and more when it was clear I’d never earn my mentor’s approval when it came to daggers.  There was a controlled precision about him that had always suggested he’d be an incredible archer, once he stopped looking down on it.</p><p>Brawling, though? Brawling was messy, chaotic, and with an underlying and dangerous coherence to it that was just my speed. It required a willingness to engage, to switch between offensive and defensive, to have a physical conversation, reading the opponent and learning to force their responses, a way to help others grow or fight back when they pushed too far, without truly having to worry about doing permanent harm.</p><p>I fancied myself rather good.</p><p>I was still taken aback by how good he’d gotten too.</p><p>Warden Nathaniel was a fearsome force, coming at me with a relentless, single minded pursuit. The first few probing trades were sharp, fierce, and nearly ended the match before it began.  Shaking off the sting of the latest blow, I circled him, watching, realizing he truly was taking this seriously now. </p><p>“Why do you want to do this, Elsa?” he growled at me in undertone.</p><p>“Brawling-” I began, darting in mid syllable.  “Is a time honored Ferelden tradition,” I continued, throwing a relatively straightforward flurry of blows.  “For resolving disputes.”</p><p>“Is that what we have?”</p><p>Anger surged again and I broke through his guard, forcing him to raise it with a high blow before harshly kneeing him in the stomach.  He staggered, but cleverly used the momentum to kick for my legs, forcing me to back off and buying himself time to regain his bearings. I nearly spit on the ground in irritation. “You’re not going to pretend things are copacetic between us, are you? That’s low, even for you.”</p><p>“Not what I-” he began, his voice taking in a slight wheeze. But he cut of mid sentence and charged forward, thinking to catch me unaware. “Meant,” he finished, proving his feint was itself a feint, and when I dodged into his range, his answering grapple forced us to temporarily lock, in a stubborn simultaneous shove that would certainly end in my defeat if I continued. Strength for strength, I was outmatched; knight training and perhaps Warden enhancements had served him well.</p><p>“Elaborate, then,” I grunted against the effort. </p><p>“I have no dispute with you. I owe you a debt.”</p><p>Feigning sudden weakness was about the oldest trick in the book in this sort of situation, but no less effective for it. Unprepared for me to switch stances, for a fraction of a second Nathaniel lurched forward, slightly more off balance than myself, and that hesitation was all I needed, landing a few more quick blows before his guard was up and his footing steady once more and quickly disengaged. Warily, we circled each other.  </p><p>“And what am I supposed to do with that?” I demanded, irritated at how heavy my breathing was. “What you owe, you won’t give-” </p><p>“If I knew what you <em> wanted </em>-”</p><p>“What I want, you can’t offer-”</p><p>“If you’d just <em> tell me </em>-”</p><p>“And whenever I try to free you, you just refuse to accept it!”</p><p>“<em> Elsa, </em>” he growled, suddenly losing all subtlety and charging forward, weathering my blows to simply barrel me to the ground. We jockeyed for position, but the match was over; I’d little counter against such unexpected brute force solutions from him.  Soon he had me pinned to the ground, looming over me, breathing pitched and heavy. Inappropriate, unwelcome, dangerously smutty thoughts swirled in my head, but I quickly shoved them down; he already had an irate noble to worry about, he didn’t need me panting after him, too.  </p><p>Heedless of my shameful thoughts, he continued. “I’ve been losing my mind trying to figure out how to make it up to you. If you have any pity then <em> tell me what you want of me. </em>”</p><p>I struggled, hips too pinned by his to gain any leverage.  Probing grey eyes and a hooked nose loomed over me. I nearly snarled at him - what was the point of demanding an apology when it was clear none would be forthcoming? </p><p>What, was I supposed to <em> beg </em>him to be my friend again?</p><p>“Hypocrite,” I finally echoed, my throat increasingly clogged with simmering emotions. “You won’t tell me how I can make it up to you, after all. You know some things need to be freely given, not coerced, or they don’t count.”</p><p>“But you have nothing to make up to me,” he lied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.</p><p>A bitter, burning salt brewed behind my eyes, but a flash of gold caught my attention, and in a moment, my struggles ceased, uncertainty gripping me.  A ring, hanging from a chain around his neck, shaken loose through our struggle.</p><p>I’d recognize that ring anywhere. I’d stared at it for years, after all.</p><p><em>My </em>ring. Not anymore, I supposed, but I'd never think of it otherwise. The one he'd given me, long ago. Hanging from his damn neck.</p><p>My eyes burned and with a promise of not holding back still somewhere in my mind, and lacking the strength anyway, tears beginning to form at the corner of my eyes.</p><p>“Elsa-”</p><p>“I thought you sold that.”</p><p>For a moment, he looked confused. “Sold - ah.”  His pin on me slackened, and he pushed off, sighing. Carefully, almost furtively, he tucked the ring back away.  “No. I could never. It’s an important reminder.”</p><p>“Of?”</p><p>He sighed, giving me a wounded look. “I don’t think you need me to spell it out, Elsa. But fine, if it pleases you. A reminder of all I lost with my stupid, foolish mistake.”</p><p>My heart thrummed within me, suspicion and hopes and pain surging through me, boiling any calm lakes I tried to imagine. “Mistake? You mean trying to commit suicide?”</p><p>He looked away. “That too.”</p><p>“Your abysmally and <em> suspiciously </em>poor attempt at information gathering?” I demanded.</p><p>“And that.”</p><p>“What. Does any of that. Have to do. With <em> my ring </em>?!”</p><p>“Oh for - <em> hurting you, Elsa! </em>” he breathed, exasperated. “Or at least, trying to. I suppose I matter so little to you I may not have even succeeded.”</p><p>I let out a tiny, teakettle scream of frustration and surged forward, pushing him down without resistance. He stared up at me with surprise as I loomed over him. “Of <em> course I was hurt, you ass! </em> You think it’s easy, realizing your once best friend hates you? Is <em> that </em>what you’ve needed, to stare at my open, broken heart, and revel in how badly you hurt me?” I demanded, tears flowing freely now.  </p><p>He gaped at me, trying to speak, but I wasn’t about to let him, words flooding with my tears. “I was <em> devastated</em>. And yes, I knew you trying to, to get me to kill you. But coming from you, of all <em> fucking </em> people? YES! I was <em>hurt!</em> <em>Am </em> hurt, and angry, so <em> drink it up. </em>”</p><p>He flinched, and even though I thought I wanted it, I hated seeing him in pain. With a sob of frustration I pushed off, turning away from him, curling into a ball and crying, dignity be damned. His hand on my shoulder made me jump, and it was withdrawn so quickly I wondered if I imagined it. </p><p>“I often wondered if it was worse that I hurt you, or that you might not care at all, and I still don’t know the answer, because this is torture,” he rasped quietly voice laden with desperation. I flinched. “I hate this feeling of helplessness. I hate not being able to figure out a solution, an answer, a way to fix things. I gave my life to the Wardens to fix my father’s mistakes. But I don’t know how to fix my own. And I wish,” he paused, a ripple of emotion in his throat that nearly squeezed my heart into pieces. “That you had some clever solution. Some task, some need, <em>anything</em>. Anything I could do, to make it up to you. To earn your forgiveness. It’s why I’m <em> here </em>. But if I hurt you so much, if you want me gone, so badly, I’ll - I’ll do it. I’ll disobey Kallian’s orders, no matter the consequences. I swear it.”</p><p>“I don’t <em> want </em> you gone. I want you <em> back</em>.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, sobs torn from my throat, all illusions of calm shattered.</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>Angrily I wiped tears from my eyes. “Forget it. That was a rude thing to say.”</p><p>His hand gripped my shoulder, tense.  “<em>Say it again. </em>”</p><p>“It’s so foolish. I know things are shattered between us. Or maybe they never mattered as much to you as they did to me. Just some stupid clingy girl that wouldn’t stop bothering you, too polite to say otherwise. I know with all I did, you can’t forgive me, and I don’t hold that against you, Nate. At least, I try not to. But the one thing I want from you would turn to ash if I <em>demanded </em>it.”</p><p>The hand left my shoulder. “You-you hate me, don’t you?”</p><p>“You fool, of <em> course not! </em>I’m <em> angry </em> at you."</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"But most of all, I miss you. I just, you asked what I want, and I know you can’t give it." Sobs were closing my throat, but even that couldn't stop me from talking. "I don’t blame you. I destroyed most of your family. And you’re a good man. Anyone should hate me after that. You asked what I wanted, and I want our friendship back. But I know, I <em> know</em>, that trying to resurrect the dead just gets you a horrifying, shambling mockery of life.”</p><p>“Maker. <em>Maker. </em>” His voice cracked, startling me; Nathaniel had always been my superior when it came to controlling his emotions. “Elsa, I swear I don’t hate you-” </p><p>I laughed bitterly, and he cut himself off. “You can’t fake the hatred you showed me in the jail cell, Nate,” I forced out, genuine offense giving me some power, some illusion of self control. “I’ll thank you not to lie so blatantly. I destroyed your father. Murdered your brother. It’s <em>understandable.</em> You're a good man. I just, I just hate how things worked out. But if it’s what I deserve, then, then fine. It’s <em> fine.</em>”</p><p>A long moment of silence, punctuated only by my shameful sniffles and desperate attempts at controlling my humiliating crying. Then, movement behind me. He got up and left. </p><p>Appropriate. Maybe now he’d finally come to his senses and abandon me.</p><p>A moment later he was rummaging through his bag, and soft but deliberate footsteps brought him back. Heavily he sat in front of me, placing something at my feet with a clunk. “What?”</p><p>“It’s a letter box. <em> My </em> letter box, from my squirage in Starkhaven. My former knight master sent it to me a few months ago, as I’d had to leave behind. It was foolish to bring along for this, but I couldn’t bear leaving it at the keep, not when I wasn't sure when I'd return. Please, Elsa. Open it.”</p><p>I hesitated a moment, suspecting a trap, unwilling to meet his eyes. Finally I carefully cracked the lid, supposing that if he wanted to poison me, he had better routes, and didn’t I deserve it, anyway? I was already a poison that had destroyed his family. </p><p>But there were no traps. Inside the letter box were, well, letters. Opened letters, with roughly half of them bearing a Cousland seal. </p><p>“Pick one. Any.”</p><p>Gingerly I rifled through, and drew out a letter, unfolding it carefully. I realized after a moment that it was <em> my </em> letter. One of the many I’d sent to him, during his years in Starkhaven. I started in surprise, setting it down and selecting another, to find the same. I picked one of the unsealed letters; it was written by Nathaniel to me, apparently a rough draft, as every one that he’d sent me had been burned in the attack on Castle Cousland. Three more attempts, and I realized the box was entirely filled with our correspondence.</p><p>Overwhelming, undeniable realizations began to pour into me, and I was left adrift, clinging to any raft among the storm. Rendon’s voice snarled in my head, that I was being weak, that I was getting taken in. That this was all clearly a trap - he must have brought the letters to manipulate me! - but I struggled to believe it. </p><p>“I saved every one,” he confirmed quietly, when I hesitated. “Your letters were the highlight of my week when they arrived. I’d reread them often, whenever I felt lonely.”</p><p>“I…”  my voice trailed off, thick with emotions. I finally met his eyes, heart ripping at the sadness I saw.</p><p>“You’ve <em> always </em>meant a great deal to me, Elsa, and I hate that I’ve given you the impression otherwise,” he continued quietly. “In a moment of weakness, I lost faith in you and ruined one of the relationships that I, I treasured most. And while it’s no excuse, I thought it was the only way to protect my remaining family.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Let me finish, please,” he said quietly. Quiet, controlled, but with a tremble of emotion in his voice that screamed so much louder than words, he continued. “Too much has gone unsaid. It seems so foolish, now, that I believed such a thing. Despair is all I can claim; I wanted to escape, to not face how hated Howes were. I believed that if it got out that a Cousland murdered me in rage, it might...I don’t know. Stiffen the spines of those nobles who might otherwise hesitate to come to our aid. Though for what it’s worth, I nearly lost my nerve when I realized it was you I had to face, and not your brother. I’d thought you were dead.”</p><p>I stared at him, gaping, holding back a thousand more words and tears.</p><p>“Seeing you were alive, well. I had two choices. Either the story was more complex than I was told - well, that I had gathered - or you were complicit. Either my father was a monster, or you’d exaggerated, throwing him under the cart in service of some scheme. One was easier to believe. And so I chose poorly, trusting blood over bond.”</p><p>“<em>Maker. </em>”</p><p>“So yes. For a brief period, I hated you. I won’t pretend otherwise. I had to believe it was some larger conspiracy, instead of my evil father’s stupid, selfish ambition. Learning the truth from Delilah - about what my father did, what Thomas tried - and I realized how badly I had erred.”</p><p>He sighed, leaning back, and looking up at the sky, unwilling to meet my gaze anymore.</p><p>“The commander has been most insistent that I just reach out to you. That I apologize. As if simple words could somehow fix this mistake. I assumed all that would accomplish would be forcing you to pretend for politeness’s sake. I didn’t want to hurt you further with such a paltry, self-serving offering. And I was sure you never wanted to see me again, anyway. You said as much as a parting, deserved shot.”</p><p>“I never-”</p><p>“I’ll not spend another fucking moment in your miserable company, Howe.” He spoke in my cadence, triggering a flash of memory.</p><p>“I…” Cold dread seized me. Had I really said that? I searched back. “I - I was just responding with you asking me to travel with you <em> right then! </em> ” All this time, <em> fuck</em>, of course Nathaniel of all people would take that deathly seriously, with a much wider meaning than I intended. Fuck. <em> Fuck. </em>I hated how much that explained.</p><p>Of course it had been my fault all along. Pride and unwillingness to reach out I should have - later. <em>Later.</em> I wouldn't dwell now, now that we might actually fix this.</p><p>He sighed. “Well, I took that as a standing order. So yes. I thought you hated me. It’s why I avoided you at the Keep, whenever Warden duties didn’t force otherwise. I was sure if you wanted to see me, you’d just summon me.”</p><p>I reared back, feeling defensive that he was pinning this on me, which suggested he probably had a point I didn’t want to acknowledge. But I wasn’t about to let that go unchallenged. Tricking him was one thing, but- “I wasn’t going to <em> force </em> you to be near me, Nathaniel!”</p><p>“I get that, now. You and Delilah always hated people who abuse their power. I just…wish I’d put that together. If I’m honest with myself, though, it was also guilt and shame. Mistakes must be rectified. But I had no idea how to fix this one. I <em>hated</em> that helplessness. And so I avoided it.”</p><p>“Nathaniel-”</p><p>“Elsa, what I want more than anything in the world is to make it up to you. I miss you more than words can convey. And while our old friendship is dead, if you truly want it back, then I would be more than willing to start again, and grow something new. But if you’re-”</p><p>“Maker, Nathaniel,” I finally cut him off with a sob, surging forward and tackling him in a hug.  I buried my face in his shoulder. “You fool. You utter fool. You’re supposed to hate me.”</p><p>“I don’t,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around me, drawing me in, holding me to him. I felt his breath in my hair, the whisper of a kiss to my head. “Not anymore. Not now that my eyes are open. I care deeply for you. And if you’re using me as a tool to harm you, then I can’t allow that. <em> Never </em> again.”</p><p>“I missed you. I missed you so much. I care about you so much, and I just...I just want to be friends again Nathaniel. I missed you.”</p><p>Nathaniel’s voice caught, another crack in that self possessed excellence he always maintained.  “Maker, I missed you too, Elsa.”</p><p>We held each other carefully at first, but soon we were all but crushing each other, clinging desperately as if the other might disappear. I didn’t even try to hold back my sobs, as his heartbeat and gentle murmurs and trembles of emotions were the greatest soothers I could ask for. My sobs turned to self effacing chuckles, and soon laughter, echoed by him in turn.  </p><p>Underneath the setting sun, and within a gentle breeze, two fools clung to each other, laughing like the idiots we were. Fragments of aborted conversations, messy and ineloquent attempts at expressing our sincere affection and regrets filled the air, and when I finally pulled back from sobbing into his shoulder, his joy and smiles overtook my heart so thoroughly I nearly kissed him.  </p><p>The impulse was hard to deny, but some semblance of sanity asserted itself. I kissed him on the cheek, and he immediately returned it, hands twining through my hair, chuckles reverberating through his ribcage.  </p><p>I playfully shoved him, and his laughter grew, allowing it and falling backwards, taking me with him. We wrestled in the dirt, bereft of dignity, meaningless retorts traded back and forth, each attempting to claim the title of greater fool. He ended up on top of me, staring down at me with eyes full of affection and warmth, and my heart beat faster, desires suddenly without sensible shackles.  </p><p><em> This is dangerous, </em> I reflected, staring into those piercing grey eyes, feeling my cheeks heat. Unwilling to face that manner of growing emotions, I surged, flipping our positions so I was on top, which he allowed, resting an arm behind his head and a hand around the small of my back. He gently stroked in the spirit of friendship, but my lascivious mind took it in a most enticing way.  </p><p>“You know what the worst part is?” I burst, quickly trying to distract myself.</p><p>“What’s that?” he rumbled, pleased smirk causing all sorts of problems, the jerk.</p><p>“Kallian’s been on <em> my </em> ass about talking to you too. Had this whole big bullheaded rant about people needing to just be <em> honest </em> with each other. Maker, can you imagine how self satisfied a smirk she’ll have?”</p><p>He chuckled. “If she ever learns of this, she’ll curl our ears with her blistering rant,” he pointed out.</p><p>“We can’t have that,” I pointed out solicitously. “I worked <em> hard </em> to get her thinking to sometimes follow less straightforward routes. It’d be for her own good if she doesn’t know.”</p><p>“I concur. So. Agree to not tell her the truth, then?”</p><p>“Absolutely.”  (Somewhere far away, I’m quite sure Kallian had suddenly, inexplicably, screamed with frustration.)  “We’ll have to come up with a better story.”</p><p>“I leave that to you, my lady bard.”</p><p>“I am <em>not </em> a bard,” I lied, “How <em> dare </em> you accuse me of being so <em> Orlesian. </em>”</p><p>“Naturally not. I didn’t see those pipes you packed.” I scowled, flicking him on the nose, and he chuckled. “Regardless. I’ll follow your lead in this. My commander will never learn the truth from me. And certainly wasn’t right all along about us being stubborn fools, plotting ourselves into prisons of our own making.”</p><p>Laughter grew and we fell back into teasing each other, punctuated by hugs and the occasional, largely platonic kiss, delivered to cheeks, and foreheads, and temples; carefully avoiding the lips. </p><p>This, I knew, was going to be a new problem in my life. But at least it was one I could deal with.</p><p>One of the great wounds in my life had finally healed. I had Nathaniel Howe back. And I’d light myself on fire before losing him again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The letter box referenced here is pretty self explanatory, and as I was self conscious about the my pacing for this fic, decided not to include the chapter introducing it in the main fic. But if you want to see when Nathaniel got it, alongside an example of the letters between them, then the prompt for it (along with some wonderful art) can be found here:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333334/chapters/67241938">Natevember prompt: Keep</a><br/><br/>Thanks again for sticking with me!  Let me know if you're still enjoying the story, comments give me life</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Arc 2: Growth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elspeth and Nathaniel attempt to settle back into their friendship, and what it means moving forward.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 4th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>The first rays of sunlight topped the hills with light, slowly chasing the shadow of night away. The light also revealed rain clouds forming far off, unfortunately in the direction they were intending to head. Nathaniel could only hope they made it to a village before then; neither had packed tents, opting for stealthy camping instead.</p><p>Hidden well among a particularly rocky outcropping, Nathaniel kept watch over their disguised campsite. He was supposed to have woken Elsa to take the second watch, and doubtless would get an earful for his failure to do so. Too bad for her, though, she needed sleep more than he did. It was just sensible that their first night out camping he took the burden onto himself.</p><p>It was motivated by selfishness as well, wanting time to process the events of yesterday. Elsa and he were friends again, or at least had the chance to become so. It was a delight he was still coming to grips with. And while he tried to retain a sensible hold of reality, smiles kept fighting past his restraint. Doubly so whenever his gaze happened to fall on her, which happened more than a good sentry should admit. He was grateful no one was awake to see such a slip in control, as he doubtless looked a grinning fool.</p><p>But for the moment, with no one to witness, he was too pleased to pretend otherwise. It was a strange feeling; he half expected for the Commander to slap his face awake at any moment, wresting him from the Fade dream he’d clearly gotten trapped in.</p><p><em> This is dangerous, </em> he’d tried to remind himself, to retain a sensible grounding. <em> I nearly betrayed the Wardens for her. What does that say about me? </em></p><p>Had it been a moment of weakness? Or did he truly discover his loyalties more hazy than even he supposed? The Wardens were a cause he believed in. They’d given him a chance to redeem himself, to protect others and fight some of the worst monsters that threatened the world. A second, chosen family, one that cared about him and believed in his worth. He loved his brothers and sisters in the Wardens, one and all.</p><p>And yet he knew he would have followed through on his promise to break his orders, had she demanded it. Would he really have walked away from that?</p><p>Surely not; some part of him must have realized even then that Kallian would forgive him and welcome him back should he fail her orders in this. But the tears in Elsa’s eyes and the pain she showed him, that <em> he </em>caused her, shut him down worse than any poison had ever managed. He would have given anything in that moment to fix it. </p><p><em> My biggest weakness indeed </em>.</p><p>Nearby, Elsa shifted in her bedroll, murmuring into her sleep before settling once more. She hadn’t slept well, but apparently whatever plagued her was finally passing, her features relaxed. His heart squeezed, flushed with other inconvenient emotions he’d spent the night trying to purge. Every part of him that she’d kissed still burned with the memory, his own lips doubly scorched, leaving him wanting more.</p><p>She must be opposed to the very notion, and yet, she certainly hadn’t seemed so. It made things so much more dangerous, visions and sensations plaguing him. The feeling of her body, pressed up against him. Soft brown eyes, half lidded and pleased, staring at him through long lashes. Auburn hair tousled about her face, crowning her flushed, happy features. </p><p>For all that she’d changed, she was still the same old bewitching Elsa all over. Why wouldn’t she endeavor to make his life more complicated? He’d long considered her beautiful, but there was a charge to seeing her now, one that felt more potent than he ever remembered. Each kiss he stole, barely justifiable as platonic. Had he an iota less of self control, and he might have pushed his suspicious luck. Nathaniel felt a disappointed, cold relief he had not so erred.</p><p>What a foolish mistake that would have been. Even if she were amenable - curse those pleased, confounding brown eyes - she was the heir to the throne and he the tainted son of a traitor who’d slaughtered her household. The memory of her terrified face when he’d injured her wouldn’t leave so easily. She cared for him, he was all too eager to believe that much, but would she ever really forget that he was a Howe? The events of the last few years were a shadow he couldn’t ignore, or pretend away. </p><p>There would surely be no happy ending to such a foolish, romantic fantasy.</p><p>His eyes once more drew back to her sleeping form.<em> We’ve both been through crucibles and come out changed. What I feel is merely the echo of an old crush I’ll grow past. I’ll not repeat my father’s sin of selfish ambition. I will take pleasure in what I have; a chance at a new friendship, </em> he instructed himself firmly.</p><p>Sunrise was beginning to hit her cheeks, now. She rustled, soon sharply rousted awake, eyes snapping open with alarm. “Sunrise?! What-you were-didn’t wake me-watch?” she blurted, scrambling to get her bearings.</p><p>He chuckled, her moment of off kilter enough to chase away his more maudlin thoughts. He moved to restart a fire in their small pit from last night, with an aim of fixing breakfast. “Good morning to you too. You are sleepy indeed, that I have to remind you I’m the Warden, here.”</p><p>“Na-a-ate!” she chided, her tone aggrieved even as she struggled to shake off sleep and suppress her yawn. “Don’t be ridiculous, we both need sleep.”</p><p>“I don’t, actually, I’ve had several full night’s sleep in a row. I can easily miss a night of rest.”</p><p>“But that’s a burden we should be <em> sharing </em>, Nate.”</p><p>“That you stayed asleep means you needed it, Elsa.”</p><p>“Faulty logic, from you? Pah! Just because I’m <em> used </em> to-”</p><p>“It’s more efficient this way. After all, even with more rest, you’ll need a break before I will today,” he pointed out, flashing a smirk her way.</p><p>She let out a throaty growl, scowling at him, and his smirk widened at the sight. “Cheater.”</p><p>“Warden,” he repeated pleasantly. “I must warn you, your face looks rather strange right now. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it pouting.”</p><p>“That’s not pouting, I’m plotting your demise,” she insisted with a glare, though her lips were losing the battle against a grin. “Blast it. I concede you've pulled one over on me. I can’t do anything about last night, but you understand I won’t let this happen again, right?”</p><p>“Fair enough, I look forward to seeing you attempt to stop me.”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“Tea? I’ve plenty of jasmine.” Offering her favorite tea was a shameless diversion, but effective all the same. She blinked, smirk disappearing as she stared at him with sudden, inscrutable intensity. He could easily predict her connecting thoughts in this one. A younger Elsa might be pleased by this consideration; always willing to look at a better version of him than existed. The glint to her eyes now suggested a more suspicious, appropriate reaction to him. She surely realized he’d acquired it specifically to manipulate her favor.</p><p>A gift with a hook, and this hook was so blatant it practically screamed. <em> I want you to favor me again. </em> He’d originally assumed he’d have to be far more subtle in employing such a tactic, first worming himself out of her disdain. But if she was going to wrench the door open, Nathaniel was pleased to charge through it like a mabari pup.</p><p>Plotting aside, breakfast was a serene, pleasant affair, both drinking and enjoying a simple meal accompanied by fragrant tea. And if Elsa caught Nathaniel subtly watching her while she enjoyed her tea, she was at least willing to put on the performance of markedly enjoying it as he’d hoped. </p><p>Seeing that smile, it was hard not to feel that today would be a good day.</p><p>Soon enough, they were traveling once more. They pressed forward at a hard pace, making as fast a journey as they could manage while still trying to leave little trace of their passage. </p><p>Conversation between them started moderately awkward; plagued by uncertainty and the frequent interruptions of needing to pay attention to their surroundings, or slip into hiding to avoid trouble or travellers. But soon enough both began to warm to the idea of talking. </p><p>While he hoped she might tell him the stories she’d teased, instead she probed him for stories of his own. It was strange, at first, but her responsiveness and gentle prodding for more meant he found himself talking easily, gamely telling her tales of his adventures and foibles since returning to Ferelden. She was a rapt audience, encouraging and probing both, expressive in her entertainment. </p><p>Words began to flow so much more easily than they had any right too, and the resonance to their youth was strong. She’d always been a charmer, and Nathaniel had long found it so much easier to talk to her than most, dangerously so.</p><p><em> You’re being played </em> , his father snarled in his ear, to his surprise; he thought he’d long learned to ignore that hateful man’s ghost. <em> You know you’ve both changed. Could you really settle in the groves of your old friendship so easily? Think, you foolish boy. </em></p><p><em> It hardly matters, </em> Nathaniel countered. <em> It’s bait too potent to ignore. And regardless, even if she is manipulating me for some purpose, it makes my mission easier. </em>His father’s disappointed sigh echoed through his mind.</p><p>“Did you <em> really </em> meet the Dark Wolf, though? I’m shocked you let Kally engage with such a... <em> questionable </em> character. You know how they feel about nobles.”</p><p>Nathaniel chuckled, sensing her question was more than idle curiosity, and wondering what run-ins she might have had with that infamous crime lord. Nathaniel knew the Wolf had gotten in his start in Denerim, after all. That was a useful hook to hold back, then. “Elsa, have mercy, it’s been hours,” he objected with a laugh. “You must know I’m not used to talking this much. My throat is parched. It’s your turn, my lady bard.”</p><p>“Oh?” she asked, her voice containing a rich tone and her eyes crinkled with amusement. He knew that look well, and felt himself on the defensive. What trap had he stepped in?  “How very odd. My memory must be failing me, I rather thought <em> you </em> were the Warden, here.” Nathaniel sighed even as she continued, grin wide and catlike. “I was <em> certain </em> it was <em> I </em> who was supposed to need the first break.”</p><p>Caught between scowling and smirking, Nathaniel shook his head. “Well played,” he begrudgingly granted. “I can’t believe I walked into that one.”</p><p>“<em> I </em>can,” she teased, grin widening. “Now, what have we learned?”</p><p>“Never trust a beautiful woman <em> suspiciously </em>interested in listening to me?”</p><p>She wrinkled her nose, a hint of color splashing her cheeks. “Flirt,” she dismissed. Hm. Had he crossed a line, then? Perhaps he should be more careful. “That reminds me, how did Anders and Velanna take the news of your departure?”</p><p>He blinked, raising an eyebrow in her direction. He wondered that himself, but how was that relevant? “Nice try, but I’m not getting baited into dithering on about myself again, Elsa.”</p><p>“Pah,” she protested, eloquently. “I’ll graciously give you a break, then. I suppose we don’t have to keep filling the silence.”</p><p>His features stayed smooth, despite the concern welling in him. “Silence, you? I’d not make you suffer so. What about the tales of you and the commander? We are alone, now.” </p><p>He already knew the broad strokes, whatever he implied earlier. His commander hadn’t told the full story, and <em> had </em> conveniently forgotten to mention her wedding, boiling it down to a terse recitation of events. Nathaniel had a feeling the story would be all the more interesting should Elspeth tell it; she’d always enjoyed putting on a performance.</p><p>Apparently not, though, based on her suddenly darkened features. “It’s an ugly story, Nate, for all my teasing,” she countered, a shadow in her eyes chastening him. “Let’s settle back in slowly, yes? We should stick to areas of comfort, and I know my stories these past few days wore on you.”</p><p>“<em> Elsa </em>,” he protested, exasperated. “Don’t be foolish. Of course I enjoyed them!”</p><p>“You must be joking. You always went all sad and grumpy!”</p><p>He felt his eyelid twitch. “Well, you did keep hinting you wanted to get rid of me.”</p><p>“I never!”</p><p>“You did. Why else would you keep bringing up seeing Delilah and <em> freedom </em>?”</p><p>She gaped at him for a moment, apparently connecting the dots. “I thought you were feeling trapped! I didn’t understand what Kallian had on you. I didn’t mean you <em> should </em> leave, just that you <em> could </em>.”</p><p>“Ah.” Nathaniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. <em> Maker. </em> A moment of silence, and he began to chuckle. Soon Elsa joined him, her laughter a pleasant trill that too easily banished the growing shadows. “How many misunderstandings are we going to need to clear up?”</p><p>“Skads, I’ll wager,” Elsa pointed out, tone still rippled with amusement. “I mean, the other option is we could try something new.”</p><p>“Naturally, you have a plan.”</p><p>“Well. We agreed on a new start, after all. I’ve heard rumors about the value of honesty, and there’s no denying we rather played ourselves for a year now by avoiding it.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”</p><p>“We could try being open and honest about <em> everything </em> right now.”</p><p>Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “You? Open? Honest? Sell me a bridge in Orlais, too.”</p><p>Her sparkling eyes narrowed, irritation warring with amusement. “I’m not taking that from you, you absurd hypocrite.”</p><p>“I’ve never claimed to demonstrate forthrightness.”</p><p>“See? At least I make people <em> think </em> I’m being open.”</p><p>Nathaniel shook his head, bemused. “In what world is that <em> better </em>?”</p><p>“I suppose it’s too much to ask to change who we are,” she diverted, chuckling. “Still.”</p><p>“Still?”</p><p>“It’s rather silly. You’re one of most intelligent men I’ve ever known-” </p><p>“Not even going for a sliver of honesty, are you?”</p><p>“Oh hush, Nate, take your compliments and stuff your diversions.”</p><p>He folded his arms, unimpressed. “You’ve called me at least fifty different words for fool, and I can’t say I blame you.”</p><p>“But that was clearly - pah, fine, if it so bothers you, let me rephrase. You’re reasonably clever by some standards. On occasion.”</p><p>“In the spirit of our renewed friendship, I’ll grant you that,” Nathaniel teased, finding himself warming to the banter. Her eyes sparkled more, smile widening, and he felt a rush from that encouragement.</p><p>“And I’ve been known to suffer from a bout of cunning, now and again.”</p><p>Alpha ogre bones and armor, melted to plug a wall, Two problems the solution to each other. “You don’t say.”</p><p>“I’m just saying, perhaps we should attempt to ensure such foolishness doesn’t repeat itself.”</p><p>“....so, what do you actually propose?”</p><p>“We….try to do better,” she spelled out carefully.  “Maybe not for full vulnerability, that’s too much to ask. But. Perhaps a little more honesty would do us good.”</p><p>“That’s a fine idea in theory, but a little light on specifics,” Nathaniel pointed out.</p><p>“Just. We’ll share what needs sharing as it comes up. We’re not opponents, after all. We’re partners, now.”</p><p>Nathaniel considered, taking a moment so as not to betray the sudden rush of warmth he felt. <em> Partners. </em> He slowly nodded. “I can agree to that.”</p><p>She smiled faintly. “So, is there anything you <em> do </em> think you should tell me?”</p><p>Brown eyes met him, crinkled with a teasing glint, and he found himself struck, staring into them. <em> I think you’re beautiful. I want to kiss you more. </em> For a moment, those unthinking, perilous words nearly left his lips. He swallowed them back. “You first.”</p><p>She laughed, cutting the tension. “I should know better than to bluff with you,” she conceded. He smirked faintly back. “More seriously though- we never settled this. I take it you’re not opposed to continuing with me beyond Delilah’s?”</p><p>“Of course not, Elsa, you would have had to force me away. I still owe you.”</p><p>Her gaze took a canny glint, probing him, doubtless reading him like a book. He endeavored to maintain an even expression; no reason to make it easy. “Of course,” she agreed, wielding that bland, cheerful tone which too well disguised her thoughts. “I shall be grateful for the opportunity to finally balance the scales.”</p><p>For all her assertions about honesty, her voice practically screamed there was more she wasn’t sharing. Relief flooded him all the same, a weight finally leaving his shoulders. He’d been afraid she’d pretend at forgiveness he hadn’t earned. Her <em> wanting </em>to be friends again was blessing enough, but Nathaniel was not content that this somehow forgave his errors, and undid the harm he’d dealt her. She had once been a dear friend. Someone he genuinely hoped he might marry some day. He should have trusted her more, if he claimed to care for her, however much that foolish childhood crush had waxed and waned through his years in Starkhaven. </p><p>A cycle he’d never quite broken. A cycle that was threatening to repeat itself, to his consternation. <em> Curb your thoughts, </em> he chided himself.</p><p>“I suppose travelling with me may well work out into your ambitions anyway,” she mused.</p><p>A flash of concern surged through him, that his thoughts might have been so visible. “Oh?”</p><p>She glanced at him sidelong, her grin widening. “Did those change? You always wanted to be a wandering knight, off slaying monsters and saving damsels. I’ve little doubt we can find our way to such troubles.”</p><p>He chuckled, finding himself both alarmed and pleased that she remembered that much. It had been all he dreamed about, as a child, wanting to be a hero just as - well, just as he supposed his father was. Shining warden armor and green eyes danced through his vision; at least he had a new hero to admire, now. “If only there were damsels around,” he teased, seeing her obvious bait.</p><p>“Or <em> knights </em>,” she fired back, theatrically simpering and fluttering her eyelashes. </p><p>A smirk tore out of him before his treacherous lips could suppress it. “Such a cruel lady. You wound me.”</p><p>She grinned with victory, and he was pleased to let her have it. “Refresh my memory; how close were you to finishing? 8 years is a long time for a squirage.”</p><p>“I was perhaps not as efficient in learning the knightly skills as Ser Rodolphe might have wished.” He was understating things, considering he spent every moment he could learning archery instead. Whenever he was caught, his knight master strongly disapproved, sharing Rendon’s dismissive views on the skill, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. “However, before I’d left his service, he had considered my training largely done, and the knighting a due formality. We disagreed as to whether I should have the accolades done in Starkhaven or Ferelden.”</p><p>“Hm. I suppose that makes sense, but Starkhaven seems the obvious choice. Did you really want to come back?”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at her, awareness suddenly dawning. She had just baited him into talking about himself again. How did she keep doing that? “Do you not remember? I thought I wrote about this,” he murmured, intent on flipping it back on her. He was amused to see her eyes flash concern, clearly worried she’d crossed a line in teasing him. </p><p>“Well, <em> I </em> don’t have many of our letters fresh in my mind,” she pointed out, the smallest thread of pique in her tone.</p><p>That one actually did hurt. Not that he should have expected otherwise, of course, she was a winsome and well liked lady. She surely collected a large number of friends to correspond with, over the years. It was foolish and high-minded of him to have thought their letters would be uniquely special to her. “I see. Fair enough.” </p><p>She cast a sidelong glance at him. Her discomfort was clearly growing, shoulders dropping, eyes shadowed. “Because they burned, Nate.”</p><p>Worse and worse. His heart fell within him. He took a careful tone, not willing to betray his concerns. “Burned?”</p><p>She swallowed, voice straining at control and failing. “In, in the attack. On my...on Castle Cousland.”</p><p>“...oh.”</p><p>Awkward silence fell, shadows darkening her features. She tried to be subtle, but Nathaniel could easily see she had hunched into herself, trying to hide her shaking hands.</p><p>“I should have put that together quicker. I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to force you to...ah.”</p><p>Her expression had shifted, smoothing, a ripple through her body as she affected a serene nonchalance. “Force me? Don’t be silly. I just didn’t want you to misunderstand. At any rate, I kept your letters too, Nate. Always quite enjoyed them, and your dry wit.”</p><p>He wasn’t about to be diverted by compliments now. “Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p>Her face hardened, her angry tone cracking out like a whip. “Absolutely fucking not.”  She flinched, and took a deliberate breath. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound sharp.”</p><p>“It’s fine, Elsa-”</p><p>“It’s not fine, the last thing I want to do is take my emotions out on <em> you, </em>of all people.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. This seemed an overreaction. “I can endure a little harsh tone,” he pointed out. </p><p>She placed a hand on his arm, then, and he stopped, giving her his full attention. She had stopped as well, looking years older, and far more tired. “I know. Didn’t mean to imply otherwise. It’s just, regardless of what you can handle, you don’t deserve it. You know the broad strokes of that night. Beyond that, I don’t want to think about it.”</p><p>He covered her hand with his, feeling the trembles. She started to pull away and on impulse, he squeezed her hand. A moment later she stopped tugging, staring at his hand, expression struggling to hide her grief. “That’s fine, Elsa,” he said quietly. “I just want to be there for you, when you are ready to talk about it.”</p><p>She gave him a wan smile.  “What is it with you and wanting my ugliest stories?”</p><p>He smiled faintly back. “I’m a selfish, ambitious man, Elsa. I want them all.” </p><p>She shook her head, denying his self deprecation. “You might be aware, it involves your father. It wouldn’t be fun to hear.” She squeezed his hand back, eyes warmer. “Let me spare you that much.”</p><p>“That’s exactly why I want to know,” he pressed. “I...I owe it to you.” She opened her mouth, protesting, but he didn’t give her the chance. “I owe it to myself. And I owe it to him.”</p><p>“Him?”</p><p>“My father.” He shook his head. “He was a monster. It’s hard to wrap my mind around how far he’d fallen. I know his deeds, and have had much time to dwell on them, but...I don’t know. It’s difficult to explain. I need to stare into that abyss, and not flinch.” Her brow creased, and he squeezed her hand again. “<em>When </em> you’re ready. Not before.”</p><p>“Oh, well, that’s rather rude of you,” she murmured, shadows lightening as her smile lost some of its sharp edge. “That’s almost reasonable. Now I just feel silly.”</p><p>He chuckled faintly, and getting the impression she wouldn’t mind, pulled her in for a hug. “I promise you, Elsa, I can be quite unreasonable where you’re concerned.”</p><p>She chuckled into his chest, the slightest hitch to her laughter betraying her deeper emotions, and held him back tightly. “I missed you,” she said quietly. “I’m so happy to have you back. You always make everything feel better.”</p><p>He held her tighter. “Same to you, Elsa.”</p><p>For a moment they stood, embraced and drawing comfort, before finally Elsa laughed and freed herself from the embrace. “Well, mood’s good and killed now anyway,” she acknowledged. “Want to hear the story of how I met Kallian?”</p><p>He smiled faintly. “By all means.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've now written the story Elspeth tells of how she and Kallian meet. For the sake of focus, I'm splitting it off as a prologue;  read it here.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920603">Kallian and Elspeth's First Meeting</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Arc 2: Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Racing thoughts and self doubt hover in Elspeth's mind as she tries to come to terms with her new reality, and adjust to life on the road again, away from her fledgling network. It's all a part of her plan, it should be fine. Right? </p><p>At least the opportunity to join in on some country dancing is a nice and uncomplicated break from worries. No problems there.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, 4th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>We managed to make it to Falrig as the rains began to fall in earnest. We were thoroughly soaked by the time we’d made it to the first inn we found. Even the innkeeper had to laugh at our dripping, bedraggled state. Thankfully he managed to squeeze us into his last room, and didn’t even stiff us on the price, to my surprise. </p><p>Further surprising me was news that there was a celebration scheduled for tonight in the tavern section. Apparently a few farmers had managed to down an ogre this time last year, and so had planned a small party with dancing and music commemorating the event. I was dubious as to how many people might actually come mid rains, but it was useful information regardless. No better way to get a sense of a town then the opportunity to chat with many of them at once. </p><p> We made our way to the rooms, still dripping wet. The rain beat the inn’s roof, a steady and surprisingly comforting drone, though the chill was beginning to set in. I began to shiver in earnest, drawing Nathaniel’s concerned gaze, and unhappy reminders.</p><p>Information gathering would be tricky from here on out, as I’d have to use dead drops for my less than honest contacts, or avoid them entirely. It was beginning to sink in that having Nathaniel around was something of a wrench on my plans. I trusted Kallian, but trust could be quite a tricky word. I trusted her to be consistent and have my safety at heart. I doubted she sent Nathaniel with any kind of roguish plots in mind. I believed Nathaniel shared her priorities with respect to my safety and freedom, but that didn’t mean he was being forthright about all his intentions. In fact, I was certain he wasn’t. </p><p>We were friends now. And that was a relief, to be sure. It was startling how much brighter the world seemed, how so many of my knots and frustrations had evaporated like morning dew. I’d’ve thought I’d prioritize facts like me <em> still being on the Ferelden Crown’s blacklist and personally betraying the Queen of Ferelden </em> more highly, but here we were. Maybe I was just desperate for any port of stability in a storm of stress.</p><p>Though, stability wasn’t quite the right word. Being friends with Nathaniel again brought with it an entirely new set of complications. He remembered me as a cheerful girl, cocky, headstrong girl, ready to take the world on. What would he think of the blood stained and broken coward I was now? He'd surely figure it out eventually, after all.</p><p>What of the sorts of characters I’d made connections with these past few years? I’d always tried to avoid getting my hands bloody, but that hadn’t been entirely possible, and regardless I wasn’t exactly a pristine and proper noble lady, the type Nathaniel respected. The King and Queen didn’t even technically know about some of my contacts, as surely they’d have opinions about Justice and Law if they became aware. </p><p>They still benefited from the information I acquired from them, though, so really, I was still doing the kingdom a favor.</p><p>Nathaniel was a good man with good intentions, and he served the Wardens. He might be my friend once more, but he had his own goals and priorities. I <em> trusted </em> him to act in certain ways, and those actions would come into conflict with my intentions.</p><p>Too much time away from my web was weighing on me, though I’d known it’d be hard. Any larger activity would send tremors back to the palace that could lead to me being politely but firmly ushered to my <em> place.</em> But as the risk increased, so did my desire to do so. What if things were going wrong, and I could do something to help?</p><p>What if I missed <em> important </em> information?</p><p>That I might not still have a role waiting for me when I eventually did return wasn’t a consideration. I had plans for how I might return, free of the tethers Anora had woven for me, and surely I was too useful to be entirely cut out, right? I had to believe I could still serve my kingdom somehow. </p><p>A Cousland did their duty. I couldn’t fail my family again.</p><p>I was half distracted with growing and unwanted realizations as we settled into our rooms. My mind whirled, barely tethered to reality as so many ideas, guilts, and consternations vied for focus now that I was finally behind walls and safe to plot. It wasn’t a good sign of my mental state. My fingers itched to practice archery again, that always helped me focus. Wasn’t exactly easy to shoot in the rain but that hadn’t stopped me before.</p><p>Focus on the physical. Clothes were soaked through and should be laid out to dry as soon as possible. We were safe in our room now. Changing into spare dry clothes from my very robustly sealed pack was a luxury to anticipate. Gratefully, I began to strip my wet gear to Nathaniel’s sudden red faced, sputtering protest. </p><p>I’d only gotten my cuirass off  by the time he was complaining, still perfectly decent and covered with an undershirt, if a rather soaked one. What was he even - oh. <em> Right</em>. Nathaniel was prudish - no, be nice, <em> conservative </em> - when it came to clothing. </p><p>“So turn around, Nathaniel,” I said with a sigh, and did the same myself without waiting to see if he complied. It defied comprehension that his gaze would wander, so I wasn’t worried. “Do you have dry clothes to change into?” I asked, and worked to peel off my wet clothing. Behind me, I heard the noises of him doing the same</p><p>“Yes, but if they get soaked as well then I’m down to Warden blues.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow, then realized he couldn’t see it. The particular dye source of the famous Warden blue was a closely guarded secret, and a useful way of ensuring they would be instantly recognized across much of the known world. As a result, it was terrible for travelling incognito, which Nathaniel had to have presumed he would be doing. “You <em> brought </em>those?” I chided him mildly.</p><p>“Being recognized as a Warden gives me useful access, and I wasn’t sure how quickly I’d catch up with you.”</p><p>Except, it would also potentially alert me I had a Warden on my tail. Hm. I chuckled faintly. “That, and you’re excited they finally arrived after so much delay and wanted to preen more.” </p><p>He sighed, sounding amused, but didn’t deign to respond. Supply lines from the proper Warden outposts had been somewhat butchered during and following the Blight; it had taken a while for the proper Warden gear to arrive at Vigil’s Keep. Kallian didn’t mind, but I suspected Nathaniel had rather enjoyed finally having the proper uniform with his new role in life. “Well, perhaps we’ll find some excuse to trot those out, then,” I prodded him with openly amused tone. </p><p>“I’ll defer to your judgment on that. Are you decent yet?”</p><p>“Rarely,” I chirped to Nathaniel in a voice stuffed with teasing cheer, and he sighed. “What? You set me up for that one.”</p><p>“I did,” he conceded with a resigned amusement. “But my question stands.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t slap you if you turned around,” I informed him solemnly.</p><p>“How carefully you word that. This is a trap, isn’t it?” he mused. But it wasn’t enough to stop him, as he warily glanced back, relaxing now that I’d gotten into mostly dry clothes. “Sorry,” he apologized. “Hadn’t meant to leer.”</p><p>He hadn’t even slightly done so, just turned red and quickly looked away, as if he’d seen me in my smallclothes. I blinked, staring at him, and grinned faintly. This was obviously some sort of set up. “Perhaps you’ll be gracious enough to just tell me. What’s your angle? You know that wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>“I think I mentioned I’m unreasonable where you’re concerned?”</p><p>I chuckled faintly. “Fair enough. Well, all is forgiven,” I informed him magnanimously.</p><p>“Surely not all,” he protested.</p><p>I folded my arms, tapping fingernails impatiently to draw attention from my battle to contain the grin. “<em>Maker, </em> you are impossible. Complain when I’m careful with words, complain when I’m not, are you ever happy?”</p><p>He stared at me for a long moment, then to my surprise, offered a bow. “Apparently, we’ve never met. I am Nathaniel Howe, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I scowled to stop myself from laughing. “You set me up for that,” he echoed, smirking faintly.</p><p>“I did,” I allowed, lips still twitching. His smirk widened, altogether too pleased with himself. Staring into those piercing grey eyes, of seeing that smirk I used to do anything to draw out, I began to feel the familiar stirrings of dangerous emotions.</p><p><em> I’ve been down this road, </em> I reminded myself firmly. <em> I’m not as foolish as I was back then. I must learn from my mistakes. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elspeth Cousland, <em> 10 years ago </em></p><p> </p><p>“Did it work?”</p><p><em> Sod it. </em> Delilah’s hesitant voice inside my room meant she probably already saw me face down in bed. Unluckily, she refused to assume I was asleep. My face was still too puffy, eyes assuredly red; no, I had no ability to pull off a convincing cheerful mask, so my pillow would have to do. </p><p>“What do you mean, Delilah?” I asked. My voice was at least muffled enough I hoped she wouldn’t hear the waver.</p><p>“Oh. Am I pretending <em>you</em> don’t have emotions and feelings, now?” she asked quietly, and I felt my bed shift as she came to sit next to me. She waited, but I had nothing I trusted myself to say. “I guess it didn’t work.”</p><p>That just wasn’t fair. “My plans always work,” I protested, offended.</p><p>“That’s not true, what about - oh. You’re trying to distract me,” Delilah realized, because of course she did. “Elsa? Are you ok? What happened?”</p><p>I groaned, but finally relented. Better to rip this bandage off. I sat up and tried not to flinch at her eyes widening when she saw my face, by her surging to hug me. “‘Lilah-” I protested.</p><p>“I promise, I’ll fill his bed with beetles, I will,” she hissed, anger all too evident in her tone.</p><p>“Delilah, don’t-”</p><p>“I’ll splash all his armors and weapons with nasty poisons that make him break out in rashes and boils-”</p><p>“‘<em>Lilah </em>,” I protested, squeezing her shoulders, though I couldn’t help but giggle, even if it did make more tears trickle out. “Stop. He doesn’t deserve that.”</p><p>“Nathaniel made you <em> cry</em>, Elsa, he deserves it all.”</p><p>I giggled again, though with my closed throat it came out more of a sob. “It’s not his fault though. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”</p><p>She sighed, shaking her head. “I guess I might believe that. Maybe. He is rather soft on you.” </p><p>“I’m a precious, delicate flower to him,” I agreed with a sniffle, and groaned, flopping back on the bed.</p><p>“C’mon, Elsa, the curiosity is killing me. What happened<em> ? </em> Did your plan work or not?”</p><p>“Oh, it worked,” I muttered, grumpy.  “It all worked a little too well. Thomas took the bait, so I didn’t even have to lie, either. Nathaniel offered to teach me to kiss. So. We. <em>Kissed</em>.”</p><p>She gasped, a sudden high pitched squeal in her voice having entirely the wrong energy for what I was feeling. “Then...what’s wrong? Is - did you hate it?”</p><p>“No, <em> I </em> thought it was wonderful, but - oh, sod it.” I covered my face in my hands. “He called it incredibly shameful. Something he’d <em> never </em> do. So apparently on top of how <em> disgusted </em>he was, I twisted his arm into it.”</p><p>Delilah’s horrified and infuriated face was a balm to all the embarrassment I was feeling. “That-he-<em> Nathaniel </em> - <em> what </em>?”</p><p>“Ferg caught us. Nate was <em> mortified! </em> Acted like it was the most embarrassing thing in the world, to be caught kissing me<em>.</em>” Putting voice to the humiliation was the final straw, and tears began to flow again. “I feel like such a fool.”</p><p>Delilah quickly hugged me, trying to comfort my silly, overwrought self. “Oh, Elsa. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“I’m fine, ‘Lilah, just...just silly, girly emotions. It’s the b-bloods, that’s all,” I sniffled. It might even be true, I’d lost track. Maker, let that be why this hurt so bad. </p><p>“It’s ok to cry, you know,” she pointed out, hesitatingly.</p><p>“It’s so <em> girly </em>though.”</p><p>“That’s! That’s <em> not </em> true, and, and besides, you are a girl!”  </p><p>I tried to laugh, but it just came out something of a sob again.  “Unfortunately,” I agreed. “Maybe if I were a boy, this wouldn’t hurt so bad.”</p><p>“Oh Elsa. Don’t say that.”</p><p>“I just...maybe I’m wrong. Maybe your father shoulda’ just sent me home like he wanted long ago. I’m a silly, stupid mess. Getting all worked up about a <em> boy. </em>”</p><p>She sighed, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Y’know, I remember when you first came here, you declared you were “the most ladylike” <em> because </em> you were so strong.”  </p><p>I tried to laugh at the memory, but it came out as something of a sob, so she bumped me while squeezing my shoulder, offering an encouraging smile. “You’re not weak ‘cause you’re sad and you’re not sad ‘cause you’re a girl. It’s ok to be sad, my brother is a <em> nincompoop. </em> And I am definitely putting beetles in his bed,” she declared, then her voice lowered conspiratorially. “<em>Stingy </em> ones. Bet he’ll shriek<em>. </em>”</p><p>I laughed through tears, and she hugged me tighter, forcing a handkerchief into my hands. Melodrama welled up within me. If I went over the top, it was clear I was joking and that would mean I was less silly, right? “I’m sorry, Delilah, I don’t think we can be sisters for real.”</p><p>“But, we <em> are </em> sisters for real,” Delilah insisted. </p><p>“Oh, you know what I mean!”</p><p>“I don’t care what blood or some stuffy magistrate says!” Delilah hugged me again. “You’re my sister, and I love you, and sometimes you annoy me, and I don’t care if you marry Nathaniel anyway because he’s just a big stupid head.” </p><p>It was sweet of her to say, but part of me knew she was just being comforting. The moment she realized I had a crush on her brother, she’d been <em> so </em> excited for us to get together. It was nice I hadn’t disappointed her too, for failing, for being so unattractive to her brother that he was disgusted by kissing me, however kindly he treated me. </p><p>“Well, guess I didn’t lose the most important thing then,” I agreed, giggling again. “Anyway, I was kidding. I don’t even want to marry Nathaniel. I’m not what he wants for a wife. I don’t want to be what he wants. I can’t stay safe in a castle my whole life, sitting on my hands and occasionally pushing out children.”</p><p>She giggled. “Yeah, I guess I can’t really see that either,” she agreed. “You’d go mad in a day. Even the Chantry’s preferable to that<em>. </em>”</p><p>“I know! It sounds <em> so </em>dull!”</p><p>“He’s quite silly, really, but I...I really don’t think he means it. You know how he feels about everything father says is <em> proper </em>.”</p><p>I sighed heavily. “I know, I know. Your father’s his hero. Even if he is an ass. Ah. Sorry, Lillah.”</p><p>“No arguments here. Father is, as you say, an a…a…” she swallowed, and screwed up her face with courage. “<em> Ass. </em>”</p><p>She held me for a while and I allowed myself to indulge in the sadness, crying like the fool I was. But eventually, it was time to grow up, and be strong. I sighed. “Thanks for cheering me up, Delilah. And don’t worry, I’ll make this right. I haveta clean up my mistakes.”</p><p>“I guess, but...does that mean you won’t help me with the beetles?”</p><p>“Did I say that? Don’t put words in my mouth.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present day </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Apparently I’d underestimated the good people of Falrig, as even the rains couldn’t stop them from celebrating. We were barely even finished eating by the time revelers started to trickle in. Ale began to flow, laughter cheerful, the townsfolk friendly and upbeat, even in the face of a few traveling strangers. I enjoyed feeling the energy of the place, getting a sense for what the townspeople were going through, even knowing a celebration was a rather biased cross section of their daily lives.</p><p>Soon enough a few players had pulled out instruments, singing jaunty tunes the rest of the bar joined in on, and space was cleared to form a dance floor. My feet began to twitch, wanting to join in. Nathaniel noticed, raising an eyebrow at me, and that was as much invitation as I needed, standing up with a grin. “Dance with me?”</p><p>Nathaniel stared at me with alarm, hesitating an insulting amount of time. “No, that is...not a good idea,” he demurred.</p><p>“As you wish,” I agreed casually. It stung, but I wasn’t about to make him feel bad for rejecting me. We were trying to learn to interact positively once more. Perhaps dancing was a little more lighthearted than we could manage anyway. </p><p>
  <em> What’s a little familial murder between friends? </em>
</p><p>With Nathaniel not an option and his brooding good looks a little too intimidating an aura, I drifted away from his presence and soon found myself a willing dance partner. He was lovely and friendly and an eager chatter. When the dance ended I found myself another, and seeing as how Nathaniel looked fairly resolute against dancing, I consigned myself to dancing only with strangers.</p><p>At least they were largely friendly ones, surprisingly pleased to meet strangers. It was useful, too, as dancing was a good time for casual conversations and gentle probing about the news. Conversational missteps could be distracted using actual missteps, and people were generally cheerful and receptive to my friendly encouragement. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, folk didn’t bring up the worst news while dancing, looking to distract themselves from what troubled them rather than dwell on it. It was hard to get a perfect read on how things were doing in the town. Times were hard, people were disappearing - unfortunately not an oddity, that, but always concerning. Aside from that, crops were scarce, and herds were diminishing, but people around here cared for each other, reaching out hands in solidarity to help those who needed it. Falrig had weathered the winter, and was looking forward to the new promise brought by spring.</p><p>I mostly danced with farmers, men and women both, and to a one they were largely convinced the rains would last several days. I was inclined to believe them. We weren’t so far from the coast and the massive, wide reaching and long lasting storms it tended to bring, and it was certainly the right time of year for the Maker to absolutely fuck me over again. </p><p>Blast it. Either we’d delay checking in on Delilah, or have to travel in trying, inhospitable conditions. I was inclined towards the latter, but I’d have to check in with Nathaniel to see how he felt, one way or another I was about to make him miserable. </p><p>Well. More than usual, anyway.</p><p>His eyes had been on me as I danced, his gaze surprisingly intense. It was a mixed feeling; I was apparently self absorbed enough to enjoy being stared at by a handsome man, but I suspected his motives were largely to suss out any contacts I might have in this area, which had me on edge. </p><p>Add to that, he probably was feeling a spot of protectiveness; his job here was to keep an eye on me, after all. Personally, I didn’t get a threatening or even thieving vibe from anyone I danced with, but Nathaniel was further away, and less inclined towards taking chances.</p><p>There was another possibility that buzzed in my brain, which I’d tried to ignore. Perhaps this was simple jealousy. But no, that was foolish, and unlikely in the extreme. If he’d wanted to dance with me, he’d been my first choice, after all. The idea that he might be jealous of my dance partners was one far more likely born of self-absorbed assumptions. I chided myself against wild and fanciful speculations, and safely discarded that one. </p><p>Perhaps he was jealous <em> of </em> me? Was I just happening to steal all the dance partners he had his eye on? Hm. That, at least, was harder to immediately refute.</p><p>Whatever bee was in his bonnet, it was hard to read. Every time I tried to meet his gaze, his eyes had already slid from me, looking for all the world like he was drinking, and barely registered my presence. But there was a gloom of shadows about him that only seemed to grow, to the point it became a genuine distraction. But just as I’d resolved to stop dancing check in on my apparently moping companion, he disappeared.  </p><p>Hm.</p><p>I gave it two more dances on the chance he was merely relieving himself before extracting myself with apologies, heading off in search of him. As it turned out, he’d retreated to our room. Apparently he was done socializing for the evening; when I peeked in he was propped up in his bed, reading </p><p>Concerns grew; Nathaniel liked people. Or at least he used to, as he was forever reaching out, trying to find what made them tick. I’d always found it easy to talk to him, from quite early in our friendship. Then again, he tended to vastly prefer smaller and slightly more intimate surroundings to larger and louder crowds like had gathered downstairs. </p><p>Right. Maybe it shouldn’t really surprise me that he needed a break from all that hubbub.</p><p>“Done so soon?” he asked, not looking up.</p><p>“Needed a break,” I lied. “Thought I might as well check in on a friend of mine,” I continued more honestly.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he murmured quietly, gesturing to the book. Crown of Hearts, obviously stolen from my bag.</p><p>I smoothed my face before the threatening scowl burst forth, internally calculating. He’d already been through most of the contents of my main sack, of course, and I supposed this was a good reminder not to expect privacy. But as he was clearly unmarked with any of my traps, he’d either disabled them, or not rummaged through the hidden compartments at all, so hopefully some of my more questionable and incriminating supplies remained unknown. No sense checking in front of him, I’d have to leave that for later.</p><p>I headed to the bed and attempted to pluck my book from his grasp, but with quick yet casual movements he shifted, retaining his ill-won prize. “Thief,” I accused him.</p><p>“I’m here to help protect you,” he pointed out, still not meeting my eye, though I could see a spark of humor in them. “That includes protecting you from rubbish like this.”</p><p>So many objections sprang to my mind at once I was temporarily at a loss. The moment stretched, his expression carefully unwavering and nonchalant, and I had to give him that one, sighing in defeat. Bemused, I shook my head, sitting on the bed next to him. “You know, if you could bottle that, you’d make a fortune.”</p><p>“This novel? Hardly-”</p><p>“No. Rendering me speechless.”</p><p>“Ah.”  A faint smirk ghosted onto his face, before slipping back into the shadows.</p><p>He really wasn’t going to take the hook even to tease me? That couldn’t be right. “Ceorlic alone would have given you his entire Southern Bannorn just for a steady supply,” I pressed, exaggerating only slightly. </p><p>“It’s a strange gift, but I’d not return it. Perhaps just be more judicious in its use.”</p><p>I plucked the book from his grasp and he allowed it, this time. I gently bonked his forehead with it, teasing. “Anyway, don’t insult this. I <em> know </em> you know this is her favorite.”</p><p>“Just because I know doesn’t mean I understand.”<em> Wondering why she ended up with Albert, I assume </em>? “Elsa, again, I’m fine. Please don’t trouble yourself on my account. Go. Have fun. I’ll be here reading, if you need me.” He made an attempt to retrieve the book, and I maneuvered it past his grasp.</p><p>“Hey, I still wanted a break,” I lied casually, ignoring and negating his second attempt to steal the book back. “Room’s a good spot to relax.”</p><p>“Oh. <em> Oh. </em> Did you need the room?” he asked significantly. </p><p>I raised an eyebrow at him. It was hard not to take the hint; he needed space. I handed the book back to him. “Oh, I - hm. When you need a break, from me, I could always-”</p><p>“No, no, I mean - I can leave, give you privacy.”</p><p>“Privacy?” I repeated, mostly to buy myself time. It was true I was in general plotting ways to ditch him to check in with my darker contacts, but he couldn’t know that already - right?</p><p>He cleared his throat, looking increasingly awkward. “If you did need the room for - for other reasons? You could always just send me off. I can entertain myself, and I don’t want to get in your way.”</p><p>Realization hit me and I tilted my head, bemused; that I might engage in dalliances on this journey hadn’t really been a consideration. What was his angle, here?</p><p>On the surface, It was thoughtful to bring up, and establish standards before it became a real issue. Then again, it could be selfish; perhaps this was his way of subtly reminding me he had needs of his own, and would likely disappear with strangers from time to time to take care of them.</p><p> And if that’s all this was, fair enough, really. It served also as a good reminder to myself to be rather careful about that damnable seed of attraction I felt for him. I had gotten over my crush once, and I could stop this one before it started.</p><p>Sure, Nathaniel was a handsome man. A distractingly, <em> irritatingly </em> handsome man. Anyone with eyes could see that. And when he wasn’t being dour or irritable - well, to be truly honest, even then -he could be quite the flirt, more than capable of charming anyone into bed were he so inclined. </p><p>He’d been somewhat careful in our youth, always convinced he had to “behave appropriately” for the sake of his nebulous, delicate future wife. But the years in Starkhaven had been good for him. I remembered his later letters getting on the flirty side, though I’d never quite known what to make of it, as he seemed so happy in Starkhaven. </p><p>Besides, I’d known better than to take flirting seriously, and it had been obvious it wasn’t really personal. He even gleefully wrote about one of his dalliances, once, and I had to assume there’d been many more he hadn’t bothered to write about.</p><p>What was her name, Alvina? Elvira? That was going to bug me, I knew it. I’d have to steal his letter box and remind myself, since apparently stealing each other’s stuff was fair game, now.</p><p>Bah. I was getting distracted. Again. Preferable to devolving into a panic with little provocation, I supposed, but dangerous around someone like Nathaniel Howe, however benign his intentions.</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” I agreed slowly, mind whirling to retrace the conversation. Of course, it wasn’t really a possibility for me. Until a decent length of time had passed and my pursuit died down, that was the kind of entanglement that led to a few more footprints than I wanted. He had to know that, right? “It hadn’t really occurred to me.”</p><p>“Oh? That seems improbable. You’re a winsome woman, and you charmed more than a few tonight.”</p><p>This was what I got for not phrasing things more carefully; it was a fair skewer. I had been some degree of flirtatious; it was <em> dancing </em> for Andraste’s sake. The honest answer would be to just admit that wasn’t going to happen and settle the matter. But I wasn’t eager to turn down a golden excuse to temporarily ditch him if he handed it to me on such a silver platter. I knew, going forward, I’d want to check in with my contacts from time to time, and would prefer not having a Warden looming over me for such occasions.</p><p>…which he had to know.</p><p>Was he trying to lower my guard with such a pretense? He had left me alone in the common room; it surely would have been easy to slip away then. What had been his plan? </p><p>“I’m surprised, Nathaniel,” I diverted instead. “I remember a young man who might’ve given me an earful about being a proper lady. Now you’re practically shoving me into bed with strangers.”</p><p>“I wasn’t-” he cut himself off and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “First of all, that young man sounds like a fool, and you should ignore everything he said to you on such matters, especially when it came to “proper” women. His father was a piece of work, and I would hope that some time away from that man gave him the chance to reflect on such idiotic opinions.”</p><p>My eyebrows had already shot to my hairline, grin bursting from my features before I managed to smooth my expression to calm again. “Noted,” I agreed, barely strangling my laughter, all too rippled through my tone. I considered defending his younger self, but he clearly wasn’t finished.</p><p>“Second of all, I wasn’t trying to shove you, I just - I don’t want to be in your way,” he clarified, floundering slightly. “I assume you were checking to see if the room was available. Perhaps I misunderstood?” </p><p>“That’s considerate of you,” I said carefully. “But yes, you misunderstood. I’m not-”</p><p>“My apologies then,” he said quickly. I searched for something to say, anything to dispel the lingering traces of such a strange subject. He had his own escape in mind, opening the book again and leaving me floundering. </p><p>No way was I going to let him get away with that. I pressed a hand on the book to cover its pages and lower it, denying him the chance to read, though he pretended at it anyway. “Oh! You should be aware almost all of the local farmers think rains will continue for a few days. We’ll have to plan accordingly; I’m inclined towards pushing through but am willing to hear you out if you prefer staying here.”</p><p>He flicked a glance up, and raised an eyebrow at me. “You were talking about the <em> weather? </em>”</p><p>I shrugged. It was useful information, but why did I suddenly feel the need to prove myself to him? Was that why he had asked, did he think I was being too much of a <em> flirt? </em> I tried to suppress that defensiveness. “I was getting the general news. Weather was relevant.”</p><p>He stared at me for a moment, expression unreadable, before a smirk finally broke forth. “Weather. Only you could light up quite so, as if that were <em> interesting. </em>”</p><p>I openly rolled my eyes at his teasing. This was basic information gathering, I knew he didn’t actually need the reminder. <em>Your father taught both of us, after all</em>. Hanging in the air. Unsaid, ignored, suppressed.</p><p>Diversion, then. I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “If there’s a different method I should have tried to get information, please, I’m all ears. Better yet, show me how it’s done.” I fluttered my eyelashes theatrically.</p><p>He snorted, flipping a page, and that <em> had </em> to be affect. I doubted he’d actually read a paragraph since I’d started distracting him. “I don’t think I’d bring quite the flair to it that you would.”</p><p>That was wildly inaccurate, I bloody well knew Nathaniel could be a smooth operator. “But you’d at least have those brooding good looks going for you,” I pressed shamelessly. “You could have had several eating out your palm tonight, were you so inclined.”</p><p>Very slowly, he raised an eyebrow at me, grey eyes burrowing into me, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Don’t tell me <em> you’re </em> an admirer?”</p><p>I grinned, not taking that bait, raising my hands in a performatively placating gesture. He should be sufficiently off balance by now, I was pretty sure I could get away with diverting him from his gloom with teasing. “Look. I admit I’m having fun, but was I in your way? Is <em> that </em>what’s bothering you? I promise I’ll let you be the flirt in the next town. Will you stop being jealous now?”</p><p>He actually had to hide his mouth with the book then, though his eyes crinkled with so much amusement I’m not sure why he bothered. “I’ll try,” he agreed, good humor in his voice as he played along. “Now go. Work your magic, my lady bard. And have a good time.”</p><p>“No chance you’ll spare the energy for a dance with me?”</p><p>He smirked faintly, waving his book in denial. “But you’re on a mission, and I’ve got scintillating reading to do.”</p><p>I laughed and relented, heaving myself off the bed.</p><p>“Elsa.”</p><p>I paused, but he wasn’t even looking up from the book. He flipped a page again; it was nice to confirm he was just pretending to be nonchalant, as there was no way he could have read another two pages so quickly. “Hm?”</p><p>“It’s good to see you with a few less shadows darkening your steps. I’m glad you’re having a good time,” he said, a brush of warmth in his tone. “You deserve it.”</p><p>He meant it as a kindness, but I had to suppress the flinch all the same. Thomas’s leering face, still stunned at my choice, at watching his lifeblood splattering all over me. I could still sometimes feel the horrible heat from each and every spot of his blood.</p><p>“Let’s not start conversations about what we deserve,” I murmured in denial, winking to pretend at good humor even though he was resolute in not glancing up. Then, because Manners Mattered, “Thank you, though,” I got out, turning to quickly flee.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Arc 2: Dance, part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Woken in the night to find Elspeth missing, Nathaniel goes in search of her, having some difficult but necessary realizations in the process.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 5th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>The steady drone of rain on the rooftop was a strangely comforting sound for Nathaniel to wake to, surrounded by darkness of night not yet passed. The room was quiet otherwise, and he spent a moment wondering what had rousted him. A quick glance to Elspeth’s bed revealed a lumped form that initially settled his nerves, but some niggling concern wouldn’t quite let that rest.  Perhaps it was the slightest brush of cold, no longer felt but lingering on his skin. Or the echo in his ears of a brief change in the soundscape. Whatever it was, it shook off the last grip of sleep, and Nathaniel found himself made forcibly alert.</p><p>Softly he pushed out of bed, casting another glance at Elspeth’s sleeping form. More alert now, however, he realized it looked wrong, and adrenaline coursed through him. Quietly he padded over, confirming his suspicions; the lumps were nothing more than rumpled covers, shaping a sleeping form - intentionally so? - and Elspeth was gone.</p><p>He scanned the room, quickly; no trace of her, and so he darted to the window. The trap was still active, but looking at it - it bothered him. Carefully he inspected the trigger he set up; he wouldn’t bet his life on it, but it looked like it had been removed and reattached with a careful touch. </p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p>He disabled the trap quickly, grabbing his cloak and dashing out the window, landing with a squelch on the mud below, casting a glance about in the downpour. The night remained dark, rain clouds obscuring any source of light. It was mostly quiet beyond the rainfall, and he tried not to let panic rise, sharp eyes darting everywhere at once, trying to find any sign. The mud was too malleable from long rains to hold footprints well, but he thought he saw the hints of a path somewhat more recent.</p><p>It was as good of a lead as anyway. Following carefully, keeping an eye out and nearly losing the faint path more than once, he found himself coming to the center of town. A gazebo stood there, one lone figure sitting on the banister bordering it, sheltering from the rain. Elspeth. Unharmed, unpursued, and seemingly unbothered.</p><p>Relief surged through Nathaniel, alongside a mild irritation he tried to squash. It wasn’t exactly her fault he’d reacted so strongly. Quietly he walked up, careful to not disguise his approach lest she read a threat into it. And thankfully, she didn't run as he drew near, hailing him with a nodded head.</p><p>“Worried me, there,” he commented mildly.</p><p>“Pah, didn’t mean to wake you. I preferred the night air is all.”</p><p>“I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s raining. And I’d prefer if you did wake me, next time.”</p><p>“You didn’t get much sleep last night, there was no cause to rouse you. I wasn’t going to be gone long,” she retorted.</p><p>Nathaniel watched closer, a tremor going through him as his eyes finally pierced the gloom, noting the details on her face. There was a darkness to her eyes that suggested she’d been crying, tears hidden among the rain. </p><p>Worry surged, but it was clearly unwelcome. His irritation evaporated; he could hardly expect her to bare her pain to him, of all people. “This isn’t the longest I’ve gone without sleep, not since becoming a Warden,” he diverted instead, eyes scanning the darkened town for signs of trouble.</p><p>“Oh? What was?”</p><p>The town seemed safe, asleep in the wee hours of the morning, before the sun had even risen. And since her question was open ended, he would happily interpret invitation into it, entering into the gazebo and bracing his elbows on the railing beside her. “Siege of Vigil’s Keep. I’m sure you’re aware, but darkspawn don’t sleep. Worse, they’re more aggressive at night, and have enough bodies to throw in waves without ceasing. We had neither advantage, but we had to match them all the same, and especially with the few Wardens we had. I’d been up for many nights by the time you came to rescue us.”</p><p>“Ah. I can rather relate, actually.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Denerim. Especially once the horde broke through the walls. I think by the end I relied more on your mother’s stamina potions than actual blood and air.”</p><p>Nathaniel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Dangerous to chain those.”</p><p>“And no substitute for sleep or Warden stamina,” she agreed with a sigh. “There’s more than one reason they’ve yet to spread into wide use beyond Amaranthine. By the end a mage had to repair the damage I’d done to myself. It was rather extensive.” Her fingers tightened on the banister, a note of steel in her voice. “But it kept me on my feet. It bought me time I needed to survive in battle until the Hero and armies came back.”</p><p>“I’m glad, then. Smart move.”</p><p>She shifted, turning to look at him. “What, really? No more chiding about how foolish that was? How I shouldn’t have been risking myself, should have just stayed hidden?”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have even chided at all, you have my apologies,” he admitted with a sigh. It hadn’t been hard to read how little she enjoyed his protectiveness, and if she was going to offer him the chance to clear this up, he was damn well going to take it. “I know you would have understood the risks and needs better than I can guess. And if it helped you survive, then that’s all that matters. I’m glad, truly.”</p><p>“Oh,” she said quietly, tone laden with complex emotions he couldn't untangle. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Elsa, even beyond seeing you in the siege, I’ve heard much of your exploits. Since it’s you, I assume the biggest ones you’ve cleverly hidden, even from the commander. I...I know I don’t act it, sometimes. But I am aware you can handle yourself.”</p><p> She dipped her head, shoulders quivering, but he was relieved to realize it was with amusement. “Laying it on a <em> touch </em> thick there, Nate,” she teased him.</p><p>“I couldn’t risk being misunderstood,” he retorted, smirking faintly. </p><p>“And you think I find excessive flattery more believable?”</p><p>“I don’t think you find anything I say believable, so I might as well err on the side of too much honesty.” They shared chuckles together and quick, fleeting grins, flashed in the darkness. He shook his head, letting his amusement fade. “I don’t mean to patronize, Elsa.” He hesitated a beat, and she met his eyes. “Sometimes, it’s just hard not to worry about you.”</p><p>She smiled, voice notably warmer. “I can understand that, at least. I worry about you too, you know.” His heart clenched within him, but before the moment could stay too serious, her tone took on a teasing drawl. “Stop skipping sleep. Eat your vegetables, you carnivore. And just what are you doing out in this weather so underdressed? Shame on you, you’ll get sick.”</p><p>Nathaniel huffed a laugh. “Unbelievable,” he teased her. “You’re so brazenly hypocritical I don’t even know how to respond.”</p><p>Eyes piercing the darkness, he watched her grin, but that faded. “You know me."</p><p>Too convenient of a hook not to pull. He hummed. “Do I?”</p><p>A faint tug on her lips, a smirk likewise quickly hidden in shadows. “I’m not sure anymore.”</p><p>“Neither am I.”</p><p>She sighed, swinging her legs over the banister and hoping down, leaning next to him. They both fell silent, for a time, staring out over the town. Rain was falling in sheets, now, a pulsing warble more difficult to ignore.</p><p>He felt a growing need, wanting to reach out, nervous of what he might find. Who were they, now? Clarity was worth the risk, he decided. “I’d like to, though.”</p><p>“You probably wouldn’t.” He raised an eyebrow, hearing that ring of sincerity in her tone she tried to hide beneath humor, casting a sidelong glance at him. “I don’t think you’d like who I’ve become.”</p><p>Nathaniel fell quiet, taken aback at that assertion. “Perhaps you don’t know me either, then.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right.”  She fell silent, again, contemplating.  </p><p>He waited a moment, trying to gauge how she felt. The tension to her shoulders seemed less than it was, and she was no longer actively crying, at the moment. Could he push?</p><p>“So what really brought you out here?”</p><p>She gave a shuddering sigh. “I was being truthful, Nate.” He stared in response, letting his doubt openly radiate. “Well. I wasn’t lying, anyway. I wanted fresh air because of poor sleep.”</p><p>“Ah. The nightmares.”  She stilled, and he knew he’d struck true. “My father?”</p><p>She sagged, slightly, sighing and giving in. “Not this time, surprisingly enough, though he's usually the central figure. Just came out here to dwell in bad memories, and wonder about what I should have done differently.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel graveled sincerely. “Are you willing to talk about any of it?”</p><p>Her posture didn’t immediately, overtly change, but it was hard not to reach a hunch into it, shadows looming over her. Casually she pushed off from the banister, sighing as she looked up, as if beseeching the Maker. She folded her hands behind her back, a gesture he was realizing now was to hide their shaking. “I...don’t know. Probably not.”</p><p>Helplessness stabbed at him, and he cast about for anything he could do. But what comfort could he, a Howe, possibly offer her? “Here,” he said quietly, holding out his hands. For a moment, she looked at him in confusion.  “You seem cold, and it’s wet out. Let me warm up your hands a bit.”</p><p>“Nate, it’s fine-”</p><p>Emotions rippled through his normal composure, then, a tinge of need he wished he could pretend away. “Please, Elsa, let me help <em> somehow </em>.”</p><p>She seemed struck, then, and slowly, somewhat reluctantly, she reached out. He took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. Under that pressure, her trembling seemed to lessen, though she was unwilling to meet his eyes. Dangerously emboldened, he ran his thumbs over her knuckles, wondering at why she had yet to pull away. He’d wanted to offer comfort, and began to suspect his own motives; the pleasure of holding her hands was pulsing in him, damningly betraying his own selfishness.</p><p>“Thomas,” she breathed.</p><p>Nathaniel froze, icy horror surging through him. His fears made manifest. Present since their youth, long before his brother’s downfall. Thomas’s overt flirtations had always manifestly tried her patience, and so Nathaniel had never put his own desires so overtly forward, worried of adding to her burden. </p><p>Or, if he were honest with himself, worried of facing similar rejection. She’d treated him differently, of course, and so he always held out hope that she didn’t view them in the same light. </p><p>Perhaps he thought too highly of himself after all.</p><p>Besides. What was he to her these days, but just another Howe man? Was she waiting for the moment he might betray her too?</p><p>He carefully released her hands. His throat was dry, but he forced words out anyhow. “I’m not Thomas,” he tried to remind her gently. Desperation simmering just beneath the calm surface.</p><p>“<em>NO, </em> ” she burst out, eyes meeting his with a sudden shocked energy. She reached out, grabbing his hands back, clenched fingers in a nearly painful grip. Subconsciously, perhaps, she drew her hands inwards, forcing him closer. “Maker’s breath. I was trying to answer your question. My <em> nightmares </em>. They were about Thomas.”</p><p>“Oh...oh.”</p><p>Her voice wavered, a clear crack in control. “Maker, you really must think I’m crazy, don’t you?” She dropped his hands, shaking her head and turning away, idle steps slowly circling the gazebo. Her laugh was cavalier, dismissive, and Nathaniel could feel the distance between them growing. He scrambled for words to draw her back, determined to provide a path forward.</p><p><em> Perhaps a little more honesty would do us good. </em> Her words, echoing in his skull, prodding him towards an obvious opportunity.</p><p>He swallowed, disliking to admit his weakness and failings. Would she think less of him if she knew? But without a show of weakness of his own, she’d hate that vulnerability she’d demonstrated tonight, and close herself off from him further. That had to be avoided. “No. I think I’m reaping what I sowed.”</p><p>She hesitated in her retreat, casting a glance back at him, questioning. Unwilling to stare into her face as he opened himself up, needing to be at least mildly less vulnerable, he turned to lean on the banister of the gazebo, eyes scanning the town once more. “I know I share their features. Their blood. And the first time I came back, the first time you saw me...just like them, I attacked you.”  </p><p><em> Terrified eyes holding a shaking dagger, desperate to keep him away. Sure he meant her harm. Just another Howe man. </em> </p><p>He bowed his head slightly. “I know you see them in me, and I can’t blame you. I want you to protect yourself, to not open yourself to hurt again. But one day, I hope to truly earn your trust.”</p><p>“You’re <em> nothing </em>like them, Nathaniel,” she insisted, closer behind him than he realized. </p><p>He huffed a bitter laugh. “No, I suppose I haven’t attempted to murder your family or loved ones. I think I can manage to keep that record going, at least. That should really raise the expectations on my family name.”</p><p>“Nate-” </p><p>He felt her hand gently rest on his back, and he nearly kicked himself. He turned to look at her, smiling faintly. “Forgive me. I meant to comfort you. Not wallow in self pity.”</p><p>She tilted her head. “Can’t we comfort each other?”</p><p>“I’d be grateful if you’d tell me how I can. I’d rather avoid making things worse again.”</p><p>She smiled faintly, eyeing him sidelong as she came to lean on the banister. “Right now, I’m cold. Let me lean on your arm?”</p><p>With lifted eyebrows, he put an arm around her shoulders instead. She seemed surprised, but didn’t immediately pull away, her shivering easy to read and excuse enough. Memories of huddling for warmth in the snow danced in his head. </p><p>He wondered if she even remembered, too. Or if that memory would be sour to her now.</p><p>Whatever she felt, she allowed the moment to linger, remaining under his arm, body pressed up against him, shared warmth racing through his body. A stolen moment of intimacy. Was he an intruder, he wondered, or perhaps a thief? This was more precious than he deserved.</p><p>He knew she cared for him, once, though apparently never in the way he hoped. But warm smiles and delighted expressions had often been her greeting to him, a stark contrast to the more stoic demeanor his father showed him. Young Elsa was effusive in her cheer, even while learning to hide her emotions, disguising them behind her charming mask. It made it hard to read, sometimes, what truly made her brighten so. </p><p>He always wanted to believe it really was him, though.</p><p>“You don’t have to pretend to be happy with me, you know,” he reminded her quietly.</p><p>“You make me happier than you realize, Nate,” she murmured back, leaning against him.</p><p>A racing heart sent heat flashing through his veins. Could she know how he wanted to read those words? Was this just her natural flirtatious charm? It had to be. It was overly ambitious of him to hope for more. </p><p>...right?</p><p>Best to divert away from that quickly, lest he dwell and become foolishly presumptuous. “I’m glad to hear it. I mean it, though. You’ve been through a lot,” he murmured quietly. “I wish I knew more, but I don’t want to push you.”</p><p>She was quiet for a long while, and in companionable silence they stood, his arms still around her as the rain pattered on the roof. Their cloaks were still wet, but no longer dripping, the dampness a keen cold every time the breeze stirred up and the rain switched directions. It wasn’t so bad for Nathaniel, and selfishly, he appreciated the chance to keep Elspeth warm. </p><p>At least it was something he could offer her.</p><p>“Sometimes I think pretending is the only thing that holds me together,” she breathed admission.</p><p>His lips quirked in sympathy. “That, I understand too well.”</p><p>“I don’t like these memories coming back. Highever was the worst night of my life, but, the siege of Denerim was hard, too. In so many ways. Kallian insisted I stay behind. I felt used, discarded. Like my worth had been entirely tied up in politics, and I had nothing more to offer her. Like I was a failure. After losing my family...”  Elsa shook her head, trembling. “I wanted to save the city. I wanted to save <em> anything </em>. I failed that too, though. So badly.”</p><p>“Elsa, you stood against a horde of darkspawn with no armies, and barely any forces at all to help. No one could hold against that.”</p><p>She swallowed, her voice thick, and forcibly steady. “I know. At least, I try to know. And in my better moments, I even tell myself that we succeeded in the thing we needed most: buying ourselves time until the Wardens and armies could get back. That maybe that’s why we saw an Archdemon at all. He thought he had us, cornered and trapped, and so revealed himself to direct the devastation, trying to finish it before the army would return. It gave the Wardens the opportunity to end things so much more quickly than any Blight before.”</p><p>Nathaniel remained silent next to her, not wanting to break the spell, feeling the tension in her shoulders, building and releasing in waves.</p><p>“They say it was the cleanest Blight ever, but...so many people died...so much lost...so many brave men and women, desperate to save their homes.” She hesitated, and her voice took on a surprising amount of venom. “Thrown like fodder into the grinder that was darkspawn. And for all the good I maybe did, I nearly ruined it all, inviting in a sn-...your brother.”</p><p>“You can call him a snake, you know. Or any number of words. I have a few suggestions myself, if you’re searching.”</p><p>“Heh. A snake, then. I invited him into our inner circle. Implicitly convinced them to trust him. Practically encouraged him into taking a shot at the crown. I know it was his choice, but...when you let yourself get manipulated so easily, especially when you should know better, it’s hard not to own some responsibility in that. Pah. Does that make sense?”</p><p>Nathaniel swallowed a suddenly dry throat. Did she already know of Marcella’s actions, then? Was she trying to draw out what he knew? Caution reared in him. She had served as the spymaster for the Crown, after all. And he’d murdered his own relative. “Yes,” he murmured, not trusting himself to say more. </p><p>She bent her head, then, and keen Warden eyes noticed new droplets on the banister. He ignored them, but hugged her tighter all the same, rubbing her shoulder gently. </p><p>“I wish I could apologize properly-”</p><p>“<em>Don’t </em>,” Nathaniel cut in firmly.</p><p>“I should, though. I don’t regret it, but...I also do. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nate, for hurting you. He was-”</p><p>It was hard not to let heated anger in his voice. “A snake. A monster. Hiding the depths of his evil in a charming, charismatic skin. And he tried to hurt you. He tried to hurt all of Ferelden. I wish I’d been there to stop him myself.”</p><p>An explosive aborted sob tore from her then, quickly pressed back in, tensions flaring through her as she mastered herself. “That is...not what I was expecting,” she admitted after a moment, forced laughter pretending at levity she didn’t possess. </p><p>“Has this weighed on you?” he asked, surprised. The story he’d been told had seemed a simple one; Thomas used the worst of a darkspawn siege to try and usurp the crown. His end was a necessary tragedy as far as he was concerned.</p><p>She forced out a laugh, grief arcing through the cracks. “A bit. I’ve done quite a bit of damage to your family.”</p><p>“Then for what it’s worth, I forgive you. I’m glad you survived.”</p><p>Arms wrapped around his waist, then, and he maneuvered within them to turn towards her, hugging her tightly as she buried her face in his chest. “I’m not saying I won’t greedily latch onto that,” she mumbled, voice muffled and shaking. “But you forgive too easily.”</p><p>He leaned his head against hers. “Maker. You really are such a hypocrite.”</p><p>“That’s different!”</p><p>“Oh? How?”</p><p>“...Because I said so.”</p><p>He chuckled faintly, and kissed the top of her head. “You’re ridiculous, Elsa.”</p><p>“Won’t argue that one.”</p><p>They hugged for a long moment, before finally she pulled back, squeezing his hands before letting him go, still smiling up at him. His heart melted, and he had no chance to hide his own smile back. </p><p>“Hey, Nate? Since we’re having such an open conversation, I...I’ve a question for you.”</p><p>“Ask away.”</p><p>“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I want to know what traps I might step in, going forward, and not hurt you.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “Ominous prelude.”</p><p>Her eyes crinkled. “Would you prefer it if I avoided asking you to dance in the future?”</p><p>Surprised at this switch, concern coursed through him that she would call him out; he felt exposed and walking a narrow bridge. A careful, casual voice was necessary. “I’m not opposed to dancing with you.”</p><p>“You didn’t want to tonight.”</p><p>“I promised not to threaten your cover,” he reminded her, still stepping gingerly.  “Most of the mixed couples I saw seemed to be led by the men. I don’t know any commoner dances, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. People here would remember.”</p><p>She huffed a faint laugh. “Fair enough,” she conceded, some tension seeming to leave her shoulders.</p><p>
  <em> Perhaps a little more honesty would do us good. </em>
</p><p>“I was afraid, too,” he admitted, before thinking better of it.</p><p>She shifted, and he could feel the weight of her renewed attention. “You?”</p><p>He sighed, hating his moment of weakness, mind scrambling for an excuse to cover. But none came, and the moment stretched. “Things are...complicated, between us,” he forced out.</p><p>“Truly, such wisdom.”</p><p>Still his mind scrambled. Still he couldn’t think of clever words to smooth this over, apparently having hit his limit. <em> I’m afraid I might lose all control of my feelings for you. I’m afraid I’m falling again. </em> Dangerous words that couldn’t be taken back. Did he really need to draw the parallels between him and Thomas further? Tonight of all nights, when her nightmares of him had woken her?</p><p>A hedged truth would have to do. “I can’t shake the feeling that every moment you’re near me, you’re just forcing smiles and pretending away revulsion. I assumed you asking at all was no more than politeness.” Blast it all, did he have to sound so pathetic?  He smiled lightly, as if self deprecating, forcing humor into his tone. “Besides. You don’t need me darkening your steps. I can keep an eye on you just as easily from the shadows.”</p><p>To his surprise, she laughed then, her open and cheerful chuckles a bright contrast to the steady drone of rain. “I’d ask how you can believe that, but I suppose we have similar difficulties with each other,” she admitted, voice still rippled with amusement. He opened his mouth to object, but she didn’t give him the chance. “But that’s alright, Nate. Things are complicated, between us, and we’ll grow to trust each other again, and continue towards honesty. But for what it’s worth, you read me wrong. I enjoy you, quite a bit.”</p><p>Nathaniel was caught on the precipice; she’d given him an out that a sane man should take. But some part of him wanted this bandage ripped off. Wanted his shame exposed and given an answer, and closure. He held out a hand, trying to make the gesture seem casual. “Well, we’re in shadows now, I suppose. If you still want that dance.”</p><p>For a tense moment she stared, not moving. But she slipped cold fingers into his, and he squeezed her hand. Gently he led her to the center of the gazebo. And with music only in his head, he began to guide her around the floor in a somewhat informal waltz.</p><p>They danced a graceful duet, her ceding the lead to him in this. Despite having no music and only darkness, she managed to read his signals, following his steps smoothly. Light on her feet and moving in sync with him, communication wordless and dangerously easy.</p><p>He tried not to linger overmuch on how comfortably she fit in his arms again. On the nostalgia of dancing with her, reminding him of the bittersweet longing of his youth. The darkness hid his own features, thank the Maker, or she might see his blush, the clear and foolish pining writ all over his face. But his own Warden eyes couldn’t ignore the smile radiating on her face or the sparkle in her eyes. It was such a contrast to the fear she’d shown him before, or even the canny wariness, rightly guarded around an untrustworthy man.</p><p>He hoped to charm her, to give her a lovely dance like she wanted. To approach provoking the radiant delight she’d shown strangers much earlier at the inn. But he knew that had been a choice, part of her mask of charm, with ulterior motives. What thoughts were behind those pleased brown eyes, looking up at him through such thick, captivating lashes? What words were dancing on her distracting lips?</p><p>And most importantly, was she truly enjoying herself? Maker, he hoped so. He wanted to believe he’d succeeded. And that made it inherently suspicious.</p><p>“Is this what you were hoping for?” he finally asked, needing to know the truth, or at least take a step in discerning it.</p><p>“Oh. Hm. I didn’t mean to pressure you like this,” she murmured, deflecting.</p><p>“Yes, because dancing with a beautiful woman is such a burden.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, apparently not taking him seriously. Probably for the best. “Flirt.”</p><p>“You know me,” he echoed faintly.</p><p>“We’ve come a long way,” she mused.</p><p>And she accused him of understating things. “That we have.”</p><p>“Still afraid?” she teased him.</p><p>He met her eyes, then, feeling as though he were drowning. Teasing and amusement glinting through them. Warmth still radiating, as if she enjoyed him.</p><p>“Not at all,” he answered honestly, having come to an important realization.</p><p>He no longer had to fear falling for her.</p><p>It was far too late.</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Artwork of Elsa and Nathaniel commissioned from Grey Enchanter, found here:<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/GreyEnchanter">Artist: Grey Enchanter</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Arc 2: Bare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Taking a slow and careful pace, Elspeth presses onto her destination, finding her new, self appointed bodyguard a far more potent distraction than she'd quite prepared for</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Elspeth Cousland </em>, 6th-14th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>We waited in Falrig until the roads were traversable, passing time in conversation as we fletched arrows, prepared trap components or mixed poultice and potions, and soon enough, set out once more. The roads weren’t exactly safe, these days, between stirred up creatures, lingering darkspawn, and desperate villagers forced to banditry, so we often found ourselves taking circuitous routes or traveling stealthily. Pace was slow, and I suddenly had a great deal more empathy for why Delilah must have hesitated on sending a courier. </p><p>Still, not all conflicts were possible to avoid, but we made for an alarmingly effective duo. I could talk my way out of most person-centered trouble. Thankfully, though Nathaniel was grumpy at the potential risks of leaving threats behind us, he was willing to defer to my preference to avoid killing whenever possible. Otherwise we tended to far outclass most other threats we faced, as we simply avoided or took the long way around any larger ambush.</p><p>Besides, neither of us seemed to really mind the slow pace. And if we occasionally got distracted along the way, well. We were doing good, right? At least, I certainly thought so.</p><p>“You know you don’t have to trick me into this, right?”</p><p>Nerves flared through me. I gave Nathaniel a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow, trying to plaster on a “confused but pretending not to be” expression. “I presume I wouldn’t, but...and not that I don’t know what you’re talking about...what are you talking about?”</p><p>He huffed a breath that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “If you wanted to linger to help people, you can just say so. You don’t seriously expect me to believe you had a contact in that village you needed to wait on a dead drop for, do you?”</p><p>I blinked. “Nate, the less you know about my network, the happier I am. I haven’t exactly forgotten you’re a Warden, you know.”</p><p>“And I haven’t forgotten you’re <em> you </em>.”</p><p>“I would argue your understanding of “me” is rather questionable, at the moment.”</p><p>He inclined his head. “Granted. But I also know what firebombs look like, even <em> yours,</em> and <em> that </em> was no roguish concoction. It was clever, I give you that much. I’m sure those templars couldn’t tell the difference, and were convinced they’d mistaken what the mage had done. But I know full well you just helped an apostate evade templars.”</p><p><em> Shit. </em> Cold fear drenched through me and my mind raced. Tension made it easy to manage an irritated, clipped tone. “You’re jumping to a rather lot of conclusions on a thin premise, Nate.”</p><p>“You are not incorrect, I suppose. But then again, neither am I.”</p><p>“You <em> are </em> incorrect, Nate!” I snapped, perhaps laying on the noble pique a touch thick. Nathaniel was rather good at reading lies, so I chose my words carefully. “That man was just caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, and the Templars thought he was something he wasn’t. <em> Nothing </em> about him suggested he was a danger. Further, I have good reason to believe he was a helpful and beloved member of that village until those two Templars showed up!” </p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“Besides, you’ve <em> seen </em> my firebombs are different from the standard ones most folk stock. It can't truly be so hard to believe others have tinkered with the formula?”</p><p>“Not at all.”</p><p>“Honestly!” I huffed, all performative exasperation. “Templars do important work in Ferelden, Nate. I know I whinge about them, but as long as we’re still recovering from a Blight, with tragedies plaguing so many communities, so too come a weakened Veil, and demons. We need Templars taking care of the real threats, not...distracted by unnecessary hunts!”</p><p>“All soundly argued. But I’m still not wrong.”</p><p>“Pah!” I threw up my hands in overwrought exasperation. “I can’t <em> believe </em> you don’t think of yourself as stubborn.”</p><p>“As I said, I’m-”</p><p>“Entirely willing to adapt myself to new information, should it prove worthy of consideration” I mimicked him, before he could, and at least I felt the flare of victory at his perturbed expression. </p><p>He sighed, and rubbed his nose. “Let me start again. <em> You know you don’t have to trick me, right? </em>”</p><p>“I - listen, if you think I would work so openly against Templars, perhaps you forget how hard I worked to get Kallian to accept a <em> Templar spy </em> in her order. And I haven’t forgotten that you’ve never explained to me what changed her mind.”</p><p>“Perhaps later. I’ll not be diverted so easily, Elsa,” he retorted calmly. “Must I prove myself? I know the smell of magebane in an instant, if for no other reason than keeping an eye out for Velanna and Anders. It’s a canny move, dosing a mage to ensure he couldn’t slip up or be provoked into using magic by such aggressive templars. But what use would that be against a mundane, I wonder?” </p><p>At this point it was mostly just choosing how I sank, but I wasn’t about to go down easily. Maker, I hated when Nathaniel latched onto something.</p><p>“You’re mixing up your ingredients,” I tried valiantly. “Aster's wort has a memorable smell, and used in more than just magebane; all I dosed him with was calming spirits.”</p><p>“True. But the faint motes of lyrium are a touch harder to hide.” <em> Dammit. </em> I’d hoped it had been bright enough he hadn’t seen but- “Would I be correct in guessing you used up all that you managed to purchase in Kilpadraig?”</p><p>Oh. Oh no. That was a much worse thread for him to pull. I couldn’t risk him asking about my dark contacts - I, I couldn’t. Of all the webs I didn’t need unfurling around me, Nathaniel figuring out my shady connections was quite possibly the worst. <em> Damn </em> this man. “Careful, Nate,” I growled, threat laced in my tone. “I hope you’re not accusing me of patronizing a black market.”</p><p>He winced. “I was making a point, I wasn’t trying to - apologies. I perhaps got a little caught up in the chase. I merely meant...hm."  He ran a hand through his hair, tension more evident than I would have guessed. Performance? Hm. "Let me start again. I’m perfectly aware that Templars perform a valuable role in society. I am also aware that many apostates live quiet, uncompromised existences. I also know a <em> thug </em> when I see one, and those two templars were certainly that.”</p><p>I hesitated, caught off guard. This wasn’t the script. “But-”</p><p>“And I did promise not to compromise your actions or report anything you wouldn’t care for to my order.”</p><p>Once again, he rendered me temporarily speechless. Damn that man. I frowned while he glared steadily, and I had to give him that one. But seeing no retort come forth, his face softened.</p><p>“I would have always helped you, Elsa. I’m just saying - you don’t have to trick me into it. I <em> want </em> you to use me. I don’t mind being used as a tool, but I can be better at it when I know what sort of tool I’m supposed to be."</p><p>And for a moment, we walked in silence as I processed this. I hated that he kept doing this - acted as if he owed me anything when I owed him so much more. Not for a moment did I believe his forgiveness to be anything other than a desperation to get me to stop crying. But his guilt wouldn’t be satiated otherwise, and I was far more interested in restoring our friendship than balancing the scales in his head, so I was willing to play along, for now. <em>“If</em> I were getting involved in such underhanded dealings, you - you're a Warden. You need deniability.”</p><p>“Careful, Elsa, you almost sound worried about me.”</p><p>I chuckled. <em> Of course I am, you goose. </em> “I’m aware very little could break your stride, Nathaniel, but if nothing else, I don’t want questions about your actions to reflect on Kallian.”</p><p>“Then it’s best if we work together, isn’t it?”  He smiled faintly while I stared, eyes narrowed and probing him. “We’re both rogues, Elsa. I can work in the shadows. And if you need to trick me, if that  - if you prefer it, that’s fine. I just want you to know you don’t have to. I want to help you regardless. You need only say the word.”</p><p>I smiled faintly, softening. “Careful, Nate,” I echoed. “You know what a rogue like me could do with an invitation like that.”</p><p>He smiled back, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Indeed. But you still have that itch to help people. Are you alone special? Or will you at least allow the possibility that I might want to do the same?”</p><p>I wasn’t about to let him get away with such a wounded gambit, not without wrenching it. No one was around us for miles; I could afford a looser tongue.“Nathaniel, you’re one of the best men I know, and a genuine hero,” I said softly, honestly, and was amused to watch a tremor run through him. He stared at me with intensely probing grey eyes but an otherwise carefully blank expression. “I know you want to help people. I just...assumed it would be better for you to help in less controversial, more open ways. Aren’t you trying to redeem your family name? It wouldn’t look good if a Howe was rumored to be working against those <em> lawful </em> authority types.”</p><p>He tilted his head, watching me. “Does that matter to you?”</p><p>I was almost offended by that. “You know I care what happens to you and your sister.”</p><p>“Certainly, I just…” he trailed off, breaking eye contact, and looking away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m content that not every good deed I do be sung from the rooftops.”</p><p>“Nate-”</p><p>“Besides, I’ve given you that invitation before, and will do so again and again. And I confess, I rather look forward to seeing what you’d do with it.”</p><p>I huffed a laugh. “You’re a dangerous man, Nate” </p><p>“Elsa,” he protested, stopping and turning to look at me. “Never to you. You know that, right?”</p><p><em> You bloody fool, do you still not realize the effect you have on people? </em> “Of course, Nate,” I agreed with a smile. And as he smiled warmly back, I considered setting him on fire with my mind. Mostly to avoid all the other images that flashed in my head instead.</p><p><em> I just want to be your friend. </em> that face said, all too clearly yearning for me to trust him again. </p><p>
  <em> But you’re not just that, are you? You’re so much more complicated than that. </em>
</p><p>No. <em> No. </em> Reigniting old wounds and feelings for Nathaniel was a problem I couldn’t afford to face. I felt like I was a silly girl once more, getting swept up in a fantasy. This was a, a momentary setback, I was sure, born more out of the dramatic difference in where we stood before and after our explosive fight. </p><p>I was getting caught up in a fairy tale, <em> nothing </em>more. Dammit, Delilah’s book must be getting to me. </p><p>Still, it was frustrating to realize little had changed; he was still sometimes a flirt who had no idea how much of an effect he could have on others. </p><p>Because Maker. Really? This, after he’d already pulled that fucking dance in the gazebo? How was I supposed to deal with that? I finally thought I had my feet on the ground and that cad had just gone and swept them out from under me again.</p><p>One of these days, when I was less vulnerable and raw, I’d need to sit down and explain to him to be more careful, or he’d really leave a trail of broken hearts behind him. I knew Nathaniel was too kind of a person to want that. </p><p>Nathaniel was a flirt, I had to remind myself of that. I’d seen the effect he had clearly enough at Vigil’s Keep. Even Kallian had admitted to being surprised at how effective his intense stares and persistent, often sly kindnesses were. Though to be fair to her relationship with the king, that was in the context of presuming I must have feelings for the man myself, and trying to coax them out. </p><p>(Because that <em> damned hero </em> had an irritating way oversimplifying everything.)</p><p>But Anders and Velanna both had visited me, the latter more reluctantly and only when Anders was otherwise unavailable. Conversations with both of them would inevitably drift to the archer. As it was the only way I could keep updated on his movements, I tended to allow it. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the high regard they held him in. It was an affection I was sure he must return in at least one case, though they were each certain he had feelings for the other. I hadn’t sussed out which of them was correct, as he was proving rather taciturn where they were concerned, perhaps unsurprisingly. </p><p>I had my faults, but I liked to think I learned from my failures. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. And if my heart beat a little faster at his intense, affectionate stares, if I felt heat pooling in me at the way he sometimes trailed off, watching me work, faint yet powerful smiles warming his face, I could just ignore it. </p><p>Really. I was - I was reading too much into things, was all. Wishing too much, wanting a fantasy. Mistaking the affection of friendship he intended for something more. Confusing my own yearning and profound relief just to have him back in my life for a different sort of desire.</p><p>I just had to convince myself of that, and things would be fine, simple, and uncomplicated again. I couldn’t claim to be above liking complications and chaos, but some things weren’t worth the risk. And this absolutely wasn’t.</p><p>I couldn’t lose Nathaniel. Not again.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Around two weeks after I’d ran from Vigil’s Keep, I came to reflect that two things were being steadily hammered into me, as if I weren’t already aware. For one, I <em> hated </em> being cut off from my network.</p><p>
  <em> What’s happening with Kallian, have the king and queen left? Has she gotten my letter? Is that Templar fitting in, is he trying something right away? Are the Templars going to calm down now that they think they have a spy on the inside? Did he even survive his joining? Oh Maker, what if he didn’t survive, what if-Maker, what about Fergus? Is he ok, is he - I abandoned, him, I - what about Cyrion, is he going to be alone in pushing for repairs and reforms? What about the University of Orlais, has Eamon caved on the trade agreements? I need to check in on-dammit, can’t do that, what about- </em>
</p><p>A million thoughts flashed, questions I suddenly couldn’t answer anymore, without books and parchment and reports at my fingertips. I had plans, but that was little immediate comfort to sudden recollection of the consequences of what I’d done seizing me without warning. It was a horribly chaotic mess I’d left behind, one I couldn’t avoid forever, even in my mind. I felt it overhead, a looming storm cloud I made ample effort to push down.</p><p>Fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately - I was no longer surrounded by a sea of sharks. I was free, and no one we encountered knew I was a noble, or expected <em> Important Things </em> out of me. The one person who knew who I was supposed to do was instead such a source of relentless, uplifting, <em> dangerous </em> pressure. </p><p>In this, Nathaniel was my other major problem, and in some ways, a solution to the first. He continued to prove a damningly potent distraction to my churning thoughts. I’d missed him.</p><p>Perhaps it was simply the dance and his embrace still lingering on my skin and thoughts - <em> damn him </em> still - but it was far more pleasant and dangerous talking to him than it had any right to be. I couldn’t believe how much my heart soared at the prospect that we were becoming friends again. I enjoyed seeing who he’d grown into. His sense of humor had gotten more understated and dryer, but no less clever for it. When I pointed this out one afternoon on the road, he claimed it was a lingering artefact of training under Ser Rodolphe; a harsh and serious taskmaster with little time for pranks. </p><p>“So you don’t prank <em> at all </em> anymore?” I demanded, disbelieving, recalling well the various misadventures in his youth. For some reason Miss Maggie in particular stood out to me, a <em> gift </em> to his sister, tearing off her doll’s limbs and hiding them on a scavenger hunt Delilah hadn’t deigned to partake in.</p><p>He shrugged casually. “Ser Rodolphe rarely approved, and I had few friends I trusted enough to try with. Most of the other squires would tattle on me given half a chance. I suppose I could have gotten away with it with Sebastian, but it seemed poor form to prank a prince.”</p><p>“It just...seems so strange,” I murmured. “But I suppose that might account for it.”</p><p>“Oh? Account for what?”</p><p>I smiled faintly, wondering at myself. It was a vulnerable admission that would have been unthinkable a week ago, and yet I almost answered right away. </p><p>Nathaniel Howe was a very dangerous man. How was it possible I was growing to relax around him quite so?</p><p>I wanted to tell him all the same. I wanted him to know me. The words came forth, a calculated risk. “You used to tease me all the time. Now, you’re so gentle with me, like you’re afraid. Afraid I’ll shatter apart.”</p><p>We walked in silence for a long moment. I knew I’d thrown quite the potent hook out, but I couldn’t regret it.</p><p>“I am afraid,” he admitted quietly.  </p><p>My heart sunk, but I wasn’t going to let that show. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he thought I was so weak. “Oh? Still?”</p><p>“You’re…” he trailed off, eager to look anywhere but myself. “You’re important to me, Elsa,” he continued, voice soft. “You’ve given me a chance to be friends again, and - I can’t, I won’t threaten that.”</p><p>I softened slightly. It was hard not to understand that. Would he lose all his comfort with me if he knew I was struggling with feelings of attraction? “Teasing can be a risk,” I acknowledged carefully. “I can see why you’d want to play it safe.”</p><p>“Do you...want me to tease you?”</p><p>I chuckled. “I know we can’t have the same relationship we had as children, Nate. It’s expected that some things will change between us.”</p><p>“That’s not what I asked.”</p><p>I smirked at him. “Oh, and were you expecting to always get easy, straightforward answers from me? I believe I mentioned your understanding of me was off.”</p><p>He blinked, surprised, and tension loosened from his shoulders. “Point,” he acknowledged, dipping his head. “Well, if I do, I hope you’ll let me know if I cross any lines.”</p><p>My grin widened, catlike. “I’ll consider it.”</p><p>He sighed, eyeing me sidelong. But a particular crinkle to his eye, the way his lips were quirking too obviously, losing the battle against the growing smirk, were clue enough that we were still on steady ground.</p><p>Well. Mostly, anyway.</p><p>At least I wasn’t breaking down into tears in front of him anymore. He’d tried to bring up that fateful night since it had happened but I don’t think I could have displayed my panic more openly, at the thought of dwelling on that mistake. I was still so embarrassed that he’d seen me at my worst.</p><p>“You’re doing that thing again.”</p><p>Habitually, I smoothed my face before I even thought about what he meant. “Which one?” I demanded.</p><p>He glanced at me sidelong. “You have a certain frown I’m learning to associate with being distracted.”</p><p>I performatively gasped, offended. “Do you truly think I’m <em> not </em> paying attention to the road too, Nate? For <em> shame </em>. You think so little of me, I think my heart might just burst.”</p><p>“I think the world of you Elsa.”</p><p>My building performance was immediately cut short and I was almost more offended by that. Or at least I would be, if I wasn’t suddenly awash in nerves firing through every part of me. “C’mon, Nate. Exaggeration, you?”</p><p>He smirked faintly. “How do you know it's an exaggeration?”</p><p><em> Dammit. </em> A good rogue knew when to cut and run, so I shoved him in the shoulder. He was too graceful to have actually been caught off balance, but pretend all the same, which was almost worse, really. He stumbled briefly before regaining his stride and sent me a wounded look.</p><p>“<em>Fine,</em> you can be the flirt in the next town! Maker's breath,” I dismissed, rolling my eyes. “Settle down, Nate.”</p><p>His face smoothed again, no doubt hiding his self congratulatory expression, at having successfully unsettled me. “Of course, Elsa.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>We made it to the inn in Wellwroth, and it was a day that had ended like most others, talking so late into the night that I fell asleep mid conversation.</p><p>But at some point, unshaped fear and anger shot me awake, a freezing sear throughout me, and I spent a moment panickedly gulping for breath. As tight as the nightmare’s grip had been, the memory of it vanished like smoke upon waking, this time, leaving me with nothing but the memory of a fresh corpse and a body still in the process of reacting. </p><p>My clothes were soaked in sweat once more, and I groaned quietly, sitting up and trying to get my bearing, fingers digging into my own thighs to center my sensations. Mild sharp pain. Roughspun sheets. A lumpy, straw filled bed, and the aches of poor sleep.</p><p>I was awake, and alive, and Highever’s fall was in my distant past. Oren and Orianna’s corpses had long since cooled.</p><p>Or so I kept muttering to myself. </p><p>Maker. Forsaken. <em> Nightmares. </em> It’d been over two weeks since I’d set foot in Vigil’s Keep. I was sure that being there had been the reason my nightmares started again. Why were they haunting me still? What was wrong with my damn mind? </p><p>I found myself missing Shadow; until she’d been injured in the siege I often went to bed cuddled with her. My mind briefly flashed to the idea of cuddling Nathaniel instead, but I quickly banished that, knowing such unhelpful thoughts had an obvious, foolish source.</p><p>I wanted to be strong, but how was I supposed to overcome this? My own mind was supposed to be my refuge. Instead, it was the source of my problems.</p><p>I shook my head, casting my gaze around, wondering if I’d woken my travelling companion. The full moon flooded through our latest inn’s weathered shutters, bright enough I had to wonder if Satina was out too. I could see Nathaniel’s bed was empty. Concerned, I slipped on my cloak, heading out. Where had my self appointed bodyguard gone?</p><p>Luckily, it proved easy to follow his tracks. The moon was bright and the soft ground was forgiving; and Nathaniel clearly hadn’t been trying to hide his passage. Even as I approached the lake Wellwroth had been built around, I heard sounds of swimming and relaxed slightly. </p><p>I blamed my sleep-addled brain for not even realizing the implications, that I pressed onwards to lay eyes on a man swimming in a lake. Or maybe I gave myself too much credit, maybe I was a creepy voyeur who wanted to peek at him in his exposed state. But whatever thoughts were motivating me subconsciously, at the time, all I knew was I was searching for Nathaniel, and some part of me wouldn’t relax until I’d actually laid eyes on him. </p><p>I stepped through the shrub into the clearing, finally catching a glimpse of him swimming in the water. He surged halfway out of the water, and I spent a damnable moment with my breath stolen away.  Maker. <em> Maker </em>. Moonlight glistened over the curves of his muscles, shoulders rippling with the wiry grace of an archer’s well-earned musculature. </p><p>For a moment, I was frozen, unable to speak, the image of Nathaniel sliding through water burning itself into my brain beyond all hope of dislodging.</p><p><em> Stop lusting, you creep! </em> I snarled at myself, finally forcing myself to action. “Nathaniel,” I called out, and he whirled to stare at me in surprise. Which made <em> me </em> surprised; had I really snuck up on him? “Didn’t mean to walk up and spy,” I continued, apologetically as he was owed. “But you were the one who grumped about not wandering off alone at night. You made up these rules, and seem to think I’ll follow them. Are you telling me neither of us listen to you?”</p><p>He chuckled, leaned back in the water. “I’ve no illusions I can give you orders, Elsa, and never tried. But fair play. I’ve been paying attention, but I wouldn’t mind if you kept your eyes out too.” I smirked, wanting to point out he clearly hadn’t. I’d somehow snuck up on him, after all. But he didn’t give me a chance. “Bad dreams?”</p><p>It was hard not to wince. My constant nightmares weren’t exactly a secret anymore. Rather impossible to hide that from a Grey Warden traveling companion who rarely slept far from me, but still. I hated that he knew this about me, that he saw the weak and sniveling coward hiding behind the mask.</p><p>“Pah. Yes, nightmares,” I agreed with some reluctance. “And no, I’d rather not talk about them, they’re formless anyway.” He sighed and leaned back into the water, floating on his back. “What about you? What prompted this midnight bath?” </p><p>“Wanted to clear my head,” he conceded.</p><p>“Bad dreams of your own?” I guessed.</p><p>“Of a sort.” Ambiguous, that, but I knew Kallian had suffered some magically induced nightmares since becoming a Grey Warden; I could guess this was more of the same. I felt a surge of guilt for being so caught up in my own problems, I kept ignoring his. But before I could ask, he dipped back under the water. </p><p>I took the hint; he didn’t want to talk about them, so instead I wandered up to the pier. I kicked off my shoes and settled on the edge, intending to dip my legs in and immediately regretting it. “Ach! That’s freezing.” I stole a glance at him again, which was a mistake, and I wished a cloud would just cover the damned moon, or he’d dip back under. My cheeks flushed, and I’m sure it was entirely due to the chill night air.</p><p>“Yes,” he agreed wryly, swimming closer. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s the dead of night.”</p><p>I shook my head. Who would want a freezing night bath? Hm. A good way to banish dreams, I supposed, though a bit too piercing for my taste. “I suppose if you’re a thick skinned Grey Warden, this probably is refreshing.” I was almost jealous, thinking about it.</p><p>“It helps,” he said simply, gently treading water. He seemed disinclined to conversation, so I fell agreeably silent.</p><p>I kept an eye out, alert, but there wasn’t a lot of cover someone could sneak from, from where I was, and I didn’t have my head in the water half the time so I wasn’t worried we’d be snuck up on. It was too easy to scan the horizons, and know nothing knew had approached.</p><p>This had the unfortunate effect of leaving me with little to focus on, other than him, and my eyes kept sliding back. Nathaniel had gotten cursed <em> attractive.</em> No wonder Velanna and Anders had both started crushing on him. I suppressed the brief flash of jealousy, that they had his attention; it was petty to feel that.</p><p>I was pretty sure he was fully naked, given the contents of his clothing pile, though his lower half was still hidden by water, moonlight reflecting off the surface and hiding anything beneath it. A growing guilt gripped me, I was basically leering at one mildly vulnerable, but it was hard to tear my eyes away. <em> He knows I’m here, so it’s not creepy that I’m staring</em>, I justified to myself. I’d thought his eyes were still closed, but by his sudden chuckle, I knew I’d been caught.  </p><p>“Should I read anything into your stares, Elsa?”</p><p>Better to lean in than divert; trying to run from it would make it seem a more pressing matter than I’d prefer him to believe. “You’re very pretty,” I said solemnly, lips quirking. </p><p>He stopped, shifting to stare at me, a single raised eyebrow speaking volumes more than he generally voiced. “<em> Pardon?” </em></p><p>I waved a dismissive hand. <em> This is no big deal, don’t be silly, I’m just stating the facts, is all. </em> “Pah, you hardly need me telling you so.”</p><p><em> “</em>I <em> ... </em>I admit I’m surprised you of all people think so. I share many features with my father.”</p><p>I grunted at him, annoyed he was teasing this out of me. “You wear them better.”</p><p>“I might have to mark this occasion,” he said, sounding annoyingly pleased with himself. I kicked a small splash of water at him and he spluttered slightly. He stood up, crossing his arms and shooting me an exasperated look. The water was only deep enough to cover him to the hips, so I worked hard not to let my gaze dip. </p><p>I smirked, refusing to accept his implicit chide. “Don’t compliment fish from me. It’s bad for your health.”</p><p>He shook his head in amusement.  “I wasn’t fishing,” he protested.  </p><p>“Lies,” I teased.  </p><p>“...I was fishing,” he conceded, smirk flashing. “And <em>you</em> were staring.”</p><p>“Lies,” I repeated primly, not bothering to sound at all convincing. </p><p>“You’re...still staring,” he pressed, more softly.</p><p>I flushed deeper, rogue instincts kicking in. “And you’re shamelessly flexing, you peacock!”</p><p>He snorted, but obligingly uncrossed his arms. "Well, I hate to make my lady uncomfortable," he murmured, teasing tone impossible to ignore.</p><p><em>Damn </em>him. I leaned back onto the pier, no longer trusting my gaze, and stared at the night sky instead. I heard him drifting closer to me, bracing against one of the piles behind my head. My heart beat a little faster, realizing I’d have to see him better, more clearly. Once again, his presence was inducing a mental fog in me. </p><p>“Apologies,” I forced out, eyes firmly fixed on the starry sky above. “I’ll stop leering.”</p><p>“I don’t mind,” he repeated, still chuckling, and I rolled my eyes. Of course he didn’t, this was humiliating for me. Maker. “How long has it been, that you’re willing to stare at even <em> me</em>?” </p><p><em> Ass</em>. I swung blindly behind me, but he caught my wrist with ease, disrupting my efforts to appropriately retaliate. I considered objecting, but pretending we hadn’t had deeply personal conversations already was a fool’s errand anyway. Besides, with such a convenient out he was giving me, it would be rude not to take it. “Court life is rather stifled in that regard,” I conceded reluctantly, breathing a laugh.</p><p>“Oh? I’ve heard rumors you’re quite popular.”</p><p>I snorted. It was strange that he might keep up on the gossip about me, but I suppose that one would be easy for any information network to suss out. “How fortunate am I, to have attention exclusively from such men who spurned me the moment my fortunes fell. Because getting hounded by ambitious, fair-weather blowhards is my idea of foreplay.”</p><p>That startled a laugh out of him, sounding quite genuine despite himself.  “Some things don’t change, I suppose. Still not interested in marriage, then?”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it.  “Not under the current preferences for me, no.”</p><p>“Oh? How carefully you phrase that. Are you telling me fiercely independent Elsa has taken a shine to the idea at all?”</p><p>“Nate…” I hummed, tone warning.</p><p>“I simply find it curious. I remember a young girl so dead set against the idea. It’s something of a surprise to hear that <em> anything </em> might make you consider it." He paused, clearly waiting a moment to twist the knife. "Is it possible you’ve cleverly hidden a scandalous relationship from the public?”</p><p>I was not an idiot. Such a question was hilariously off the mark, and he had to know that. “Nate, what’s the point of this probing?” I finally asked, glancing back. “Why would the Wardens care about what I’m going to do about marriage? Or are these subtle hints I should return?”</p><p>“Not at all. I was just making idle conversation,” he protested.</p><p>“Uh huh. Remember what I said about blatant lies?”</p><p>He huffed a laugh. “Fair point.” He mulled for a moment, casting a glance about, and apparently was satisfied we were unlikely to be overheard. “Of course it’s relevant to the Wardens. You’re the heiress to the throne. And Wardens know better than most that it’s unlikely there will be a royal child to bump your place. Who - and <em> if </em> - you end up marrying will prove rather consequential to Ferelden, a country we have rather deep political ties with at the moment. You really can’t conceive it would be a topic of interest?”</p><p>I sighed, somberness taking me, staring up at the moon. I doubted that impetus would have come from Kallian, but Nathaniel would be aware of the broader concerns of his order all the same. “That’s not unreasonable,” I conceded. “But I’m not answering all the same.”</p><p>“That’s not unreasonable,” he echoed. “Can’t blame a rogue for trying, though.”</p><p>“Mmm. Please don't, in the future," I said softly. "I...like getting to know you again. I can't pretend there isn't a specter of our respective obligations hanging over us, but..." I trailed off, hoping he'd take the hint.</p><p>He sighed. “You're right. That is...I don't want to betray your trust like that. I - I admit was curious. For myself.”</p><p>Nerves flashed through me, my heart suddenly tense. I waited a moment, I couldn’t risk not having control of my voice. “Oh?”</p><p>Silence fell. The moment stretched. I wanted to not jump to conclusions, but my pounding heart was on pins an needles. Why would Nathaniel care, if not...</p><p>“I think I mentioned I wanted to get to know the new you?”</p><p>Oh. <em>Oh.</em> Right, Of course. I was...I was an idiot after all. I forced a laugh, and it didn’t sound too unnatural. “I suppose that makes sense. But politically charged subjects are inherently suspicious.” I nearly winced. <em>What is wrong with me.</em> <em>“Hey, Elsa, is there anyone you like?” “Why’d you have to bring politics into this.”</em></p><p>“Ah. Did I cross a line?”</p><p>I smiled faintly. “I’ll consider your probing for the Wardens an even trade for me embarrassing myself about your swim.”</p><p>“Fair enough. Does that mean I shouldn’t tease you?”</p><p>I laughed openly, then. “No, you’re certainly due as much,” I acknowledged in a moment of weakness. I felt like I was grasping desperately for normalcy in such a charged conversation. My mind was running off in all sorts of convenient directions. I was grateful to be staring up at the moon, resisting the temptation to let my eyes wander. I could hear his breathing near me, steady and reassuring. <em>Lower the pressure. Talk of meaningless things. </em>“Aren’t you getting cold?”</p><p>“Trying to get me distracted by swimming so you can stare again, my lady?” he teased.</p><p>“I was rather hoping you’d drown right now, actually.”</p><p>He laughed, then, genuine humor taking him. It was a deeply pleasant sound, all the more pleasurable for its rarity. His good cheer took me too; leaving me feeling brighter, and more lighthearted. I enjoyed making him laugh. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint, but I am getting out,” he warned me, and I obligingly shut my eyes, turning away from him and his clothes. He surged behind me, splashing me with water to my sputtering consternation. I heard him rustled with his pile of clothing, and in a moment a cloth was dropped on my face.</p><p>“Sorry, didn’t mean to splash you.”</p><p>I sighed. <em> So predictable. </em>“This is your shirt, isn’t it.”</p><p>“I got water on you!  I’m just offering you a dry cloth to wipe it off.”</p><p>“This is your shirt, <em> isn’t it, Nathaniel. </em>” </p><p>“...A shirt is a dry cloth.” </p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>“You’re the one who wanted me to tease you more.”</p><p>I groaned; fair play. “I’ll never live this down, will I?”  </p><p>“Maker, I hope not,” he agreed, at this point openly snickering.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The next morning I awoke to the delightful, invigorating smell of steeping tea, and Nathaniel exercising, doing sit ups on the floor. Pouring myself a cup was distracting enough that it took me until my first sip to realize what had changed.</p><p>That fucker was practicing <em> shirtless. </em></p><p>“You must be <em> joking </em>,” I demanded, aghast.</p><p>He paused briefly, finishing his set before grabbing a towel.  His calm face was the soul of innocence, but not for a moment was I fooled. “It’s a warm morning, Elsa, and I sweat through shirts too easily when I practice. I didn’t think you wanted to wait for me to finish cleaning it before we could get moving.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” I demanded, unimpressed, staring him down.  </p><p>He raised an eyebrow at me, his stoic expression not cracking for a moment.  “So. Still up to go outside for a few rounds? Or would you rather skip the morning sparring match?”</p><p>I chuckled, a smirk twitching to my face. “You’re going to regret this.”</p><p>Amusement danced in grey eyes all too readably.  “Oh, I doubt that.”</p><p>“You’re on, then. <em> Exhibitionist. </em>”</p><p>“Show me what you’ve got, <em> voyeur. </em>”</p><p>

</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Art by the incredible Grey Enchanter once more, found here: <a href="https://twitter.com/GreyEnchanter"> Grey Enchanter's twitter </a> and the NSFW account here: <a href="https://twitter.com/NaughtyEnchant2"> Naughty Enchanter </a><br/>This wasn't commissioned, just happenstance (who DOESN'T want to see shirtless Nate bathing in the moonlight?), but she kindly gave me permission to use this in this fic because she is an incredible and wonderful person.</p><p>If you want to see the NSFW version, go here:  <a href="https://twitter.com/NaughtyEnchant2/status/1384260006380380165"> NSFW Nathaniel Bathing art tweet </a></p><p> </p><p>"I can be a better tool when I know what kind of tool to be" is a variation of a line from A Girl and her Fed, webcomic by KB Spangler, and stuck with me hard.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Arc 2: Reflection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elsa and Nathaniel attempt to distract each other with sparring, and soon enough, press on to finally arrive at their destination: Delilah's house.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Nathaniel Howe </em>, 15th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Elsa really could be quite unreasonable at times.</p><p>Oh, it was clever, he had to give her that much, but it felt a <em> touch </em> unfair for her to be sparring him shirtless, too. Even if she did at least keep her breast band on. </p><p>He liked to think of himself as someone who could maintain his focus even under intense distractions. Anders had certainly tested his patience on that one, on more than one occasion. But this was a bit much.</p><p><em> She’s dangerous, fast, and strong, and I am going to waste all of our poultice with the number of bruises I’ve taken already, </em> he tried to remind himself.  They squared up again, every limb aching, and yet a particular energy beyond even Warden stamina driving him forward. This wasn’t exactly standard for their matches. He should quit, concede defeat. And yet, he didn’t want it to end. Even despite the embarrassment, he was having far too much fun. For, well, rather obvious reasons.</p><p>
  <em> What are you, a teenage boy, wet behind the ears and giggling at a glance of stockings? Pull yourself together. </em>
</p><p>“<em>Distracted </em>, much, Nate?” she sing-songed teasingly. She wasn’t even slightly pretending she wasn’t pleased as the cat that swallowed the canary. </p><p>“You are a very bad woman, Elsa,” he groused, trying hard to pay attention to her shoulders and stance. But she always caught him when his eyes started to wander, and punished his inattention with lightning fast reflexes. He’d even tried faking out once or twice, too, to bait an attack, but rarely did it do much good. </p><p>A strong flurry of blows and in a moment she’d hooked him, dropping him on his ass once more. He spent a dazed moment staring at the sky. <em>Maker</em>. He must look like such a fool. She offered him a hand up, grinning wryly.</p><p>“Told you you’d regret this, you blatant hypocrite.”</p><p>“It’s not the same-”</p><p>“If you try to claim it’s different for women-” she growled warningly even as she heaved him up, though her eyes twinkled with mirth.</p><p><em> It’s different for me! </em> He closed his eyes for a moment as he gained his footing, trying to calm the heat coursing through him. It had been a struggle to resist the temptation to “accidentally” pull her down to his level. He was stuck wishing he could banish inappropriate, disrespectful images from his head. Trying not to think about how easy it would be to force a grapple, where they, shirtless, would tumble in the dirt. Vying with each other in a tangle of sweaty limbs and bare skin. </p><p>But no. Nathaniel would not be a slave to his whims. She deserved to be treated better than that. She was a noble, a lady. The heiress to the throne.</p><p>And he, the Warden son of a traitor who’d murdered her household.</p><p>The man who’d called her a whore.</p><p>It <em> was </em>different.</p><p>“I’m not so foolish as that,” he murmured in response. </p><p>She released his hand - was he imagining that it lingered? - and the warmth stuck with him. </p><p>“Tch. You really are distracted.”</p><p>His eyes narrowed, alarmed. Elsa looked far too pleased with herself, which should be impossible by this point. It took a moment to realize, the gesture so natural seeming, but one hand ever so casually hid behind her back. Worse, the weight around his neck was gone. The ring and chain on his neck was missing, and he hadn’t even noticed.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow, hoping he could sell a decently confused expression, before snapping out a quick hand to grab her arm. She easily danced out of the way. </p><p>“Careful, Nate,” she chided him, laughter rippled in her voice as he scowled good naturedly. “It’s rather polite to both <em> agree </em> we’re starting the match again.”</p><p>“Elsa,” he growled, stalking forward carefully, coaxing and threatening both.</p><p>“Something you need, my friend?” she chirped, casually maintaining their distance.</p><p>The rush of warmth he felt when hearing that acknowledgment had rarely failed to affect him, and he spent a moment wondering if she did it on purpose. No matter; he would not be diverted so easily. Her movements stayed unpredictable and teasing. Though perhaps he had to admit, he was still rather distracted.</p><p>Hm. Confounding. </p><p>“May I have the ring back, please?” he finally asked, wondering if he might find success in the simple, straightforward request.</p><p>“<em>Which </em>ring?”</p><p>Naturally not. Why would <em> Elsa </em> willingly make his life simpler?</p><p>He circled her and she sauntered in a counter circle back, eyes dancing and looking so damn <em> smug </em> even still. It was hard not to mirror that expression, mirth growing within him, perhaps enjoying this game a little too much. But he hid it as best as he was able, trying to maintain a stoic façade lest he encourage this.</p><p>“A certain ring I usually wear around my neck seems to have gone suspiciously missing. Perhaps you’re familiar with it?” he attempted. </p><p>“I do seem to remember such a ring,” she conceded, her face a pantomime of innocence, all solicitous empathy. “But I must at least ask, are you sure you haven’t lost it?”</p><p>Conversation paused through his next few attempts; he managed to briefly grasp her free wrist, but she broke that before he could take advantage.</p><p>“Unlikely.” </p><p>“I’m just saying, it seems like a fool thing to wear sparring. You don’t <em> always </em> wear it, do you?”</p><p>He managed to sweep her leg and in her moment of resetting, snagged her arm and quickly twisted it, attempting to force her surrender. She twisted closer, as he knew she would, trying to relieve the pressure. In a moment Nathaniel was snaking his arm around her back before suddenly he felt his own leg getting kicked out, and her thrust forcing him to follow.</p><p>He nearly tumbled, releasing the grip on her arm lest he genuinely wrench it. He spent a moment in a quick light stepping dance, regaining his stance. “Always,” he confirmed, staring at her with narrowed eyes, calculating. He was getting caught in her game, he realized, playing by the rules she set forth. She was a good judge of character and behavior, setting up plans accordingly; continuing this path would lead only to failure. What he needed was to flip the script. He had an idea he’d used once before to great success, but she might well be ready for that. </p><p>Hm. </p><p>Indecision would be his downfall, here. With a snap decision he surged forward, as if pressing for the tackle. She baited surprise, but both knew better; she tried dancing to the side the moment of impact. But he’d been prepared too, instead using the moment he seemed to fall to grab her legs. He weathered her sharp blow to his back; she held back, as he knew she would. He maintained his grip, hoisting her up. </p><p>She scrambled, laughing and squawking both, attempting to free herself, but lacked the leverage. In a moment, he had her comfortably seated in his arms. Princess style, appropriately enough. He allowed himself relishing in the victory and smirked at her. Not one to be easily cowed, she smirked right back. Her pretense was apparently gone, spinning the chain with his ring - her ring? - on her finger.</p><p>“Less distracted that time,” she pointed out with a wide grin. “Suppose you just needed a goal to focus on.”</p><p>He blinked, then shook his head ruefully. “Did you let me win that, all to restore some measure of my pride?"</p><p>Wide eyes filled with genuine seeming surprise regarded him. He wasn’t certain, however; she was a good enough actor that could easily be faked. "Don't be ridiculous, Nate, would I make such a fool of myself like this?"</p><p>A brush of warmth chased through him, a comforting surge of nostalgia. "If you thought you could trick someone into feeling better? Yes, without hesitation."</p><p>She seemed touched by that, eyes sparkling. "Fine, then. If I did, would I truly admit it?"</p><p>He huffed a laugh. "I suppose not. I will draw my own conclusions. Now. May I <em> please </em> have the ring back? Considering our positions,” he teased, hefting her to her amused laughter, “I may be forced to resort to measures you wouldn’t enjoy.” Was he trying to tease out her stubborn and contrarian nature? Did he <em> want </em> her to refuse, and give him excuse to use more ribald tactics?</p><p>Possibly. </p><p>He wasn’t a very good man. </p><p>She gave him a considering look, spinning the ring around her finger one more time. “So careful to use neither my nor your.”</p><p>“I’m not sure who it belongs to yet.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow, probing. “But you hold onto it still.”</p><p>He met her gaze defiantly. He’d seen how easily she pawned off whatever jewelry she’d brought along with her on this journey. “I won’t risk you selling it.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes but it seemed to be the answer she was looking for, as she daintily fastened it around his neck once more. He spent a moment wondering if he had an excuse to linger in holding her, and reluctantly set her down when none presented itself. </p><p>“I wouldn’t sell that, Nate,” she chided him.</p><p>“Really? You were eager to toss it aside, once. You’d wanted me to sell it myself.”</p><p>Amused eyes glowered. "<em>Once! </em> Things are different now."</p><p>Curiosity surged. "Ah. Do you want it back, then? I’m happy to return it."</p><p>She gave him a considering look, but shook her head. "Mind, if we have a tough fight I wouldn't object to borrowing it, if it still has the enchantment?”</p><p>“It does.”</p><p>“Better you keep it. I’m not sure I can resist the temptation. Fancy magic items like that draw attention, so it’s better to wear hidden anyway. I already push it just with my bracers, and those are deliberately scuffed; that ring, however, is beautiful and <em>rich</em> looking.”</p><p>He nodded, feeling a twinge of relief and disappointment both. Which didn’t make much sense; it was a complicated knot he’d have to later untangle. He shook the soreness out of his limbs, raising his guard and a querying eyebrow in her direction.</p><p>She grinned, shaking her head. “C’mon, you self-punishing goose, I must insist we end there. Let’s get patched up - I’ll get you first.”</p><p>Post match healing was yet another form of temptation. Gentle, dexterous fingers massaged the healing salve into his bruises, and he focused on the cool sensation of healing. Better that than let his thoughts wander. </p><p>
  <em> Tell her. </em>
</p><p>Ah yes, he was rather waiting for that ambitious voice.</p><p>
  <em> She finds you attractive. And what was it she said, as if you haven’t replayed those words a hundred times since she voiced them? "You’re one of the best men I know, and a genuine hero” </em>
</p><p>That she thought so highly of him was bewildering. It had to be, not a lie, perhaps, but a soothing exaggeration. A diversionary compliment, meant to distract him from his chase at the time. She had better sense than that, after all.</p><p>
  <em> Tell her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s not the right time yet. Begone. </em>
</p><p>“It defies easy comprehension you were quite so distracted,” she murmured, offhand. “It can’t be the first time you’ve seen a shirtless woman. Or man.”</p><p>“No, but I rarely sparred them,” he hedged.</p><p>“I suppose that makes a difference.” She grinned, bemused, shaking her head. “Well, I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a <em> little </em> uncouth and a bad “winner” today. I’m out of practice and certainly not used to winning so decisively against you.”</p><p>It was hard to concentrate on her words, as her fingers slowly rotating in circles on his shoulder, rubbing in the balm. Tingles coursing down his spine. Goosebumps forming, which he was prepared to blame on the cool sensation of healing should she ask. “Not at all.”</p><p>“Hm. I feel I must ask. Did I push the joke too far?” </p><p>He shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. Turnabout is fair play. Perhaps that fairness is why it surprised me so, coming from <em> you </em>. Ach!” She’d sharply poked his bruise, and he couldn’t help give her a wry grin. “Yes, that’s more what I expect.”</p><p>“Ass.” She chuckled, though. She did put her shirt back on, to his dismaying relief, so he just relaxed, enjoying her touch a normal amount. </p><p>“I meant it as a compliment,” he insisted with a chuckle. “After all, what was it, ‘fair is for suckers’, right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it, stiffening. “I mean no offense, I-”</p><p>“It’s fine, Nate,” she cut in wryly. “I’m not going to fall to pieces when you bring up Thomas.”</p><p>He relaxed slightly, leaning back to look at the sky, contemplating. “I think I said that to you as well, a few times.”</p><p>“When you blatantly cheated, yes,” she agreed, chuckling. “Though, to be fair, I think we all wielded that against each other.” Her good humor was a banishing charm, chasing away shadows before they could form. </p><p>“Yes. I remember being discomfited by it, but it was one of the few ways I could get him to smile in approval.”</p><p>“Mmm. Hey Nate?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You ever think that we maybe, conceivably, learned some absolutely <em> horrible </em> lessons from your father?”</p><p>“<em>Yes, </em>” Nathaniel breathed fervently, and they both laughed. “They linger still. I hate to admit it, but I sometimes hear his voice in my head. It’s not...always wrong.”</p><p>“Maker, <em> yes</em>. It’s the pits.”</p><p>Their eyes met, a deep understanding passing between them. Long lessons and the looming specter of a harsh but clever man, never quite pleased enough with their progress. Both of them, sometimes competing, always allies, desperate to win just a crumb of his approval.</p><p>“I learned so much from him,” she acknowledged quietly, continuing. “I can’t pretend he didn’t have a hand in shaping me.”</p><p>“Indeed. I’m just still sorting out his lessons. Separating the parts I’m grateful for, and what I wish ripped out root and stem.” Nathaniel shook his head. “Sometimes I find it hard to even be certain which thoughts are influenced by him.”</p><p>She blew out a sigh, but her expression stayed wryly amused. “I know what you mean,” she agreed faintly. “He was cunning and awful. I still sometimes catch myself thinking he’d approve of something I pulled off, and I feel at once ashamed and strangely proud.”</p><p>“In hindsight, I suppose I can be grateful for certain aspects. All those years of frustrations that I never quite met his expectations. Maybe that’s a good thing after all.”</p><p>“He was an ass to you, you know,” she said softly, moving to work on his back. “Always praising Thomas when you were so clearly his superior. I’m quite sure it was on purpose, withholding affection just to push you down.”</p><p>“Father knew I didn’t need encouragement, and - hm.” He trailed off. “How troubling. I still have that impulse to defend him. I’d’ve thought I’d be rid of that by now.”</p><p>“Understandable. He was your father.” Her voice was kinder than he wanted. </p><p>“Much to my dismay.”</p><p>A gloom filled the air, and Nathaniel berated himself for causing it. Did he have to keep bringing shadows to her presence like this? But to his surprise, Elsa set down the jar, hugging him from behind. “I’m grateful for one thing, at least,” she murmured. His heart grew within him, pressing on his lungs. “You and Delilah are unequivocal good he brought to the world.”</p><p>For a moment he held still, afraid that movement might betray him. But he reached up a hand, gently pressing against her encircling arms, as much of a hug as he could return. “It’s kind of you to say that,” he murmured, the only words he trusted himself to speak.</p><p>And for a moment they just held each other, lost in nostalgic, bittersweet memories of their youth. </p><p><em> Tell her</em>, a part of him whispered, desperate to have clarity, to not be caught in indecision. <em> Seize your </em> <em> opportunity. </em></p><p><em> Be silent, you overly ambitious shadow, </em> he growled back. <em> If I must, I will tell her when the time is right. </em></p><p>“You know what the biggest difference between you two is?”</p><p>“....I look forward to hearing this. Or perhaps I dread it.”</p><p>“He wanted people to view him as a hero. But you, Nathaniel Howe, Warden of Amaranthine, really <em> are </em>one.”</p><p>“<em>Elsa, </em>” he breathed objection, tension flaring through him.</p><p>She laughed lightly, and released him. Only the thinnest thread of self control won out over the desire to hold her in place. “Too much? Sorry. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm my favorite grump.”</p><p>He didn’t think his cheeks could get any more heated. “Must you tease me so? You’re a bad woman, Elsa.”</p><p>“True enough,” she agreed cheerfully. </p><p>Conversation drifted to lighter topics, after that. And after cleaning and tending their minor injuries, soon enough, they set out once more. Nathaniel had to admit a sense of rising anticipation and nerves. If all went well, they should be at the village Delilah was staying before nightfall.</p><p>He had little sensible reason to fear Elspeth would chase him off, but a part of him couldn’t help remember she’d only formally agreed to tolerate his presence until they reached his sister’s. She’d since indicated she’d be happy to travel with him beyond, of course, and he mostly believed her. </p><p>But lingering and cautious doubts still whispered warnings; perhaps he was merely falling for some long con of hers. That he was getting caught in her web, desperate to believe her goodwill for him was genuine.</p><p>Her attention was a siren’s lure. Maker, was he so self absorbed? Basking and thriving in her affection as though he were starving. She watched him with a warm hearted gaze, and her smile and laughter melted the heart of him. Teasing, kind and bright, the playful trickster had him thoroughly wrapped around her fingers, and Nathaniel was largely content to be so webbed. </p><p>And if his gaze lingered overly long on her, if sometimes he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away...well. At least she didn’t seem to mind the attention either. She must have noticed how often he stared, after all. He knew she could feel it. He was simply grateful she chose not to call him out on it, or turn to stare into the depths of his hopeless longing.</p><p>Grasping for more felt, well, wrong. He wasn’t willing to chance making her suffer. Because he saw the darker moments, too. The light might hit him just wrong, or nightmares would still grip her upon waking, and she’d see them in his face - his father, his brother. A legacy of traitorous Howes, laced in his very blood. </p><p>She’d recoil in fear shaded with revulsion, then apologize. As if she had somehow given offense, for treating him as he was.</p><p>Still she held back. Still she wouldn’t tell him of her worst nights, still she hid her shaking and tried to pretend the burden of her nightmares was light. She might like him fine, but he knew she didn’t trust him. Not really. And he deserved as much.</p><p>
  <em> Tell her. You’re just making excuses! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will not put so much pressure on her, so soon. Besides, what would be the point? What could she possibly say?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That she loves you too! </em>
</p><p>Even that thought was enough to make Nathaniel’s heart temporarily pound. But he suppressed that with irritation. <em> She has better sense than that. And even if she didn’t, it’s a foolish thing to grasp for anyway. I’m a Warden. She’s the heiress. And quite possibly, the future queen. There’s </em> no <em> happy ending here, </em> he reminded himself tiredly, even as she gestured animatedly while she spoke, weaving her tales and making his heart dance on her strings.</p><p>He would not repeat his family’s sins.</p><p>“What about you?” her voice chimed out, surging through his thoughts and banishing his internal chiding, at least for the moment. She had a way of wresting his full attention.</p><p>He spent a moment in consideration. “Sweetcakes.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Really? But we’ve passed through several markets selling them.”</p><p>“They’re no substitute for the ones I could get back home. Though truth be told I would prefer Starkhaven sweet cakes even more.”</p><p>She laughed, a pleasant, warm trill that left him with little choice but grin back. “I’m surprised! Wouldn’t’ve guessed that would be first.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>She grinned. “I would have assumed you missed your companions more.”</p><p>There was that probe, again, that gentle pressure. It was a game they were playing these past weeks, each trying to learn more about each other through means honest and sly. Her inquiries seemed mostly centered about the Warden mages. It put him in a tricky position; he felt a natural sense of defensiveness about his mage companions, and wouldn’t see them harmed. But he likewise trusted Elsa, and presumed her probing was more about settling her own nerves. Or, more likely, to pad her quiver with arrows when the Templars tried to pressure the Crown. </p><p>He was cagey with answers about Velanna and Anders all the same, and she seemed content not to push too hard, which was a relief. He wasn’t sure where his loyalties would fall, and didn’t like the answer either way. </p><p>“I miss them as well,” he conceded.  “But it hasn’t really sunk in yet, I think. You underestimate how constantly we were in each other’s company these past few months.”</p><p>“Oh?” she demanded archly, sly smile suggestive of all sorts of salacious details. </p><p>“Indeed,” Nathaniel agreed, happy to join in on this joke, maintaining his stoic expression. “Long days and longer nights, with only our small intimate group for company. Luckily, we always found ways of keeping each other entertained.”</p><p>“I bet you were rather grateful for Warden stamina, then.”</p><p>“It has its uses,” he conceded with a faint smirk. She laughed, then, but had a suspicious gleam of triumph in her eyes. He felt a flash of concern - had he taken the joke too far? Best end it, then. “At any rate, I <em> do </em>miss them. I’m particularly worried about Anders, in fact, and how he’s settling in with a Templar breathing down his neck.”</p><p>That gleam didn’t wane. If anything, it increased.  “If you need to return, to check in - you could probably make much faster time traveling back without me.”</p><p>Ah. <em> Now </em> he understood what she thought she knew.</p><p>How strange. He was certain that Anders had been open about his crush on the Cousland heiress. He’d certainly never stop talking about her no matter how discomforted it made Nathaniel. She had to be aware of that much; Anders had all the subtlety of a morning rooster. Then again, it wasn’t unreasonable for her to suspect he was the pining sort. And it was probably useful if she was mistaken about the target of his unwanted affections. Right?</p><p>“When I write next, I’ll remind Kallian to check on him, but. Anders will be fine without me. Justice is there to keep an eye on him.” He spoke with a voice more confident than he felt - <em> was </em> Anders alright? - but he wasn’t about to give her such an easy hook. “Besides, you wouldn’t still be trying to ditch me, would you? You know I have orders.”</p><p>“Come now, Nate, give me a little credit,” she drawled, amused. “If I wanted to ditch you, you’d wake up drooling mud.”</p><p>He chuckled, she probably wasn’t wrong, though technically that went both ways. He liked to think he was careful, but underestimating Elsa always got him in trouble. It wouldn’t be hard for her to poison him, not really. “No, I was teasing. I trust you,” he said simply.</p><p>She smiled faintly. “I appreciate the misplaced faith. But, offer stands.”</p><p>He smirked. “I rather enjoy traveling with you, Elsa.”</p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p>Their eyes met, dancing with a joke he wondered if they shared. </p><p>“...I think I see Kirklan on the horizon,” he diverted. “We should be to Delilah’s village in a few hours, barring no other problems.”</p><p>“Fantastic news,” she breathed.</p><p>“Is there a plan?”</p><p>She gazed at him sidelong. “I don’t suppose you know where she’s likely to be staying?”</p><p>He shook his head. “She just told me Kirklan.”</p><p>“Well, lucky you to get that much,” she grumped. “I just knew from my <em> agents </em>she wanted to see Helma. I had to find out that meant Kirklan in the first place.”</p><p>He wondered, but did not press. There was a shadow on that relationship, but she had no desire to speak on that, and so he let it be for now. “We should be careful, though. We’re technically in Bann Theodore’s territory, though I doubt he pays much attention to a small village like Kirklan. We should be cautious where Delilah is concerned, however. He shouldn’t really have any idea she’s there, but it wouldn’t do to underestimate him. In which case, I doubt she'd  be completely unwatched.”</p><p>“Mmm. I don’t suppose there’s any hope that you, a prodigal son and Howe, might be welcomed should we be caught?”</p><p>Marcella’s corpse flashed in his vision, his mouth suddenly drier. “Unlikely,” he rumbled noncommittally. “I somewhat infamously joined the Order that ousted my father, his favored cousin.”</p><p>“You don’t think he might be convinced this was a part of a long con of yours?”</p><p>“...I also largely ignored his overtures until I sent back a rather rude reply.”  A precious piece of unique jewelry of Marcella’s, somewhat melted from the fire. Crude, and ghoulish, but it had gotten the point across. “He stopped trying.”</p><p>She gave him a canny look, brown eyes digging into him. “...and now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”</p><p>“I imagine. Regardless, I genuinely believe even <em> you </em> would receive a warmer welcome than myself. Theodore is more than willing to sup with the enemy if it might gain him an advantage, but traitors? He despises those.” He shook his head. “I expect he’d take my presence as a rather personal insult.”</p><p>“Fair enough.” Elspeth mulled a moment, but it was clear they were of the same mind on this. “Subtle it is, then. We’ll go in careful, try to find where she’s staying. I would agree she probably has some eyes on her.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “Can’t believe she came out all the way <em> here </em> though. This is the ass end of Amaranthine.”</p><p>A strange defensiveness arose in Nathaniel. “It’s less than a day’s journey from Ardenkirk, a prominent city with many-”</p><p>“Yes yes yes,” she cut in impatiently, before her voice switched to teasingly soothing. “Theodore is still <em> very </em>important, his Ardenkirk is well off, beautiful, has a few key trade routes, riches from the mines, so on, so forth.”</p><p>“I just mean, it would be good not to underestimate him.”</p><p>“Nate, I <em> know,</em>” she insisted, voice threaded with irritation. “Marcella may have disappeared, but Theodore proved perfectly happy to retreat to his demesne, fighting to preserve his remaining scraps of power. Trust that I have a file on him.” Her eyes went distant, voice taking on a clipped tone, clearly reciting from the report dancing in her head. “No heirs, but maintains a fierce competition with his inner circle as to who will be named, and quite spry for his age. Still regularly winning duels and everyone he’s trained has proven particularly gifted. He is not trusted, but broke no laws, nor did he join the Bann's foolish conspiracy against Arlessa Tabris, at least not overtly. And so the Crown watches but does not intervene, leaving it to the Arlessa to slap his wrist should he misbehave.” She gave him an annoyed look at the end of her rant, clearly unimpressed that he doubted her. “Consider me roughly aware of his resources and influence.”</p><p>He blinked. The benefits of a spy network, he supposed. “Noted.”</p><p>“So, since you’re feeling finicky and correct-” Nathaniel scowled, but her eyes danced so amusedly he found himself cracking a smirk in a moment. “-Let me clarify my point: this is the ass end of Amaranthine <em> where Delilah is concerned. </em>Considering the pressure he used to put on her, I’m surprised she’d be willing to linger so near his shadow.”</p><p>“The two weren’t unrelated, I would guess; I imagine Helma rather feared for her safety if she didn’t move to a town within even a disfavored Howe’s influence.”</p><p>She sighed. “I suppose I see that.” Then she frowned, worry entering her features. “Delilah’s safe, right?”</p><p>He frowned as well, gaze drifting to the city on the distant horizon. “You know as much as I do, if not more. Is there a reason you’re asking?”</p><p>“Perhaps I was hoping you’d lie to me.”</p><p>“If you’d find it more comforting, I will do so. But I prefer to remain honest with you.”</p><p>“Naturally,” she dismissed, clearly disbelieving him, which wasn't unfair, really, but he was at least careful to not directly lie where possible. “Well, then, unless you want to come up with a careful plan, we do things my way.”</p><p>He sighed heavily. “I’ve no notion what I’m walking into; you’re far better with improvisation than myself. I’ll follow your lead.”</p><p>“Excellent. Once again, I appreciate your misplaced trust,” she chirped sunnily.</p><p>And Maker preserve him, he couldn’t help but smile back. </p><p>
  <em> You’re drowning. Tell her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hush. Let me just enjoy what we have, at least a little longer. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The sun had touched the horizon by the time they made it to the outskirts of Kirklan. It seemed to be largely a ranging-based village, with large herds of druffalo ambling about, closely watched by a few sheepdog and the occasional mabari mutt mix. The town itself had clearly weathered a recent storm, with many toppled structures and hastily repaired walls.  But business seemed to carry on as usual. Patched pens of bleating rams and their accompanying smell wasn’t the most pleasant introduction to the town, but it was soothing all the same. Too many had lost many of their herds, to darkspawn from either the Blight or the Darkspawn Civil War, (as some were starting to call it). But apparently this town had been lucky enough to miss the bulk of the raids; likely a consequence of the shadow of Ardenkirk so near by.</p><p>Nathaniel doubted it was so benign as a Bann actually seeing to his liegers; he knew Theodore simply wouldn’t appreciate his <em> things </em> being interfered with. </p><p>As they closed in on the town’s center, Elspeth’s attention wandered as usual, darting about to take in the various townsfolk and get a read on them. Soon enough by some logic known only to her, she’d found her mark, strolling up pleasantly. With unnecessary flourish, she twirled a coin along her knuckles, a gesture she’d often done before when introducing herself. Nathaniel always found it a little gauche for what it was, but she was charming enough to make up for the awkwardness, and her target usually happy to eventually accept the coin. </p><p>Amiably she chatted up her latest target while Nathaniel’s gaze panned their surroundings; it had become a habit, as she tended to get irritable if he paid too much attention to her conversations, likely presuming he was trying to ferret out her network.</p><p>Which, to be fair, he <em> was </em>. Purely for benign reasons, of course.</p><p>In this case, however, Nathaniel truly did have more pressing concerns about the town. It wasn’t safe here, not truly - not in Theodore’s shadow. They’d both come with slightly altered appearances, of course. Hopefully Theodore wouldn’t think to look for them in the first place. Though at this point, it was entirely possible word of the missing Cousland Heiress had spread. Both of them had somewhat infamous faces, though usually only seen at a distance by the sort of folk that would live in a small town. Still, it wasn’t impossible that they’d be recognized. </p><p>He hadn’t loved that Delilah had chosen to live so near Theodore, but ultimately the choice was hers, and she rarely cared for his attempts to protect her. And it wasn’t like she was planning on announcing herself to their late father’s cousin. Theodore had reached out to her in Amaranthine, of course, but eventually he stopped trying with her as well. Nathaniel had to simply hope that he’d given up on trying to manipulate his kin.</p><p>“No shit, Delilah?” Elspeth’s mark enthused, immediately wresting Nathaniel’s attention. “Shyeaaah, I know her.”</p><p>“You do? She’s alright, right?”</p><p>“Oh so your ears do work do they?” the youth snarked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. </p><p>“He’s a bit distractible,” Elsa said with a laugh, before Nathaniel could retort. “It's been a long road, you'll have to forgive his grumpiness. Could I ask you to point the way to her?”</p><p>The kid’s eyes flashed wary. “Meaning no disrespect, but we’re quite fond of Delilah round here…”</p><p>Elspeth smiled warmly. “That’s good to hear. She’s great at making friends wherever she goes. I am so <em> relieved </em> she has such a strong, admirable protector as yourself, keeping an eye out for her. But I promise you, we mean no harm. We just wanted to visit, and wish her well.”</p><p>Apparently that was simply <em> enough </em> for the young man, who smiled back, if a bit bashfully, and agreed to lead them onwards. As they followed their new guide, Nathaniel gave her an amused sidelong glance. </p><p><em> What? </em> she mouthed at him, fluttering her eyelashes.</p><p><em> Flirt, </em> he mouthed back.</p><p>With great dignity, she stuck out her tongue, and Nathaniel had to suppress his chuckles. </p><p>The young man lead them onwards, and while Nathaniel stayed sensibly wary, he was an amiable fellow, there seemed to be no ill intent in the youth.</p><p>He lead them through the small community, receiving suspicious stares - surprising, considering they were being lead by one of their own - but none challenged them, at least, nor did any seem to pay them any of the attention he'd expect from informants. Soon they came upon a modest, quaint home. It was well kept, thought, with fresher paint and various plants blooming in the window box planters. Closer inspection revealed each one had an alchemical purpose, and his heart beat faster. He hadn't distrusted the youth, precisely, but this was good indication that it truly was where Delilah lived.</p><p>He walked up the door, knocking on it twice. “Hey Delilah! Albert! Open up, you’ve got some visitors!</p><p>A tremor went through Elsa then, and he almost didn’t catch it, casting a sidelong glance at the woman. Her face was smooth, generically cheerfully, but her hands were casually tucked behind her back and he’d bet coppers to nobles they were shaking.</p><p>Curiosity continued to grow.</p><p>“Coming, coming,” Delilah’s muffled voice called out, and Nathaniel found himself finally freed of worries he didn’t realize had gripped him. She was ok. She was <em> fine. </em> Of course she was fine, she’d probably chide him for feeling protective in the first place.</p><p>And soon enough, she opened the door. And there she stood, grinning at the boy who’d led them onwards. “What’s all this then?” He gestured behind him. The same grey eyes, dark hair, and seemingly permanently sardonic expression.  “What-Nathaniel!” she began, eyes wide, before they drifted over, landing on his traveling companion. And by then, her surprise had grown into an expression of stricken horror. “No. <em> Elsa </em>?!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Arc 2: Learn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Face to face, Delilah and Elsa finally have a conversation, and Elsa tries to discover what went wrong with the other once-dear Howe in her life. A few secrets are revealed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW:  Quick reference to off screen suicide.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Elspeth Cousland, 12 years ago</em><br/><br/>“You can’t be serious,” Delilah breathed, barely even trying to hide the amusement quaking through her. "Never? You never snuck out of your home? You weren't once curious about what life is like in Highever, without your parents looming over your shoulders?!"</p><p>“I mean, I didn’t exactly have a lot of opportunities!” I defended, feeling threatened.  I hated not knowing things, and she had me dead to rights in this.</p><p>“Of course, of course, and you came from a family of proud warriors, too honorable to sneak out,” she agreed, eyes crinkling, and I had a feeling I was being insulted again.</p><p>“Look, I don’t know why you’re pestering me about this,” I scoffed, miffed. “You think I need convincing? Of course I'll sneak out with you. I’m just, just going to follow your lead, is all. I have no idea how to, ah, mingle with commoners.”</p><p>Delilah had to cover her mouth to keep the laughter in, then.  “Probably wise,” she agreed, wiping a tear from the corner. “You’re kind of a snob.”</p><p>“I am not!”</p><p>“Of course not,” she agreed too easily, and my glower set off a new round of laughter.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> 6 years ago </em>
</p><p>“Elsa, please, you have to help me, everything’s gone wrong!”</p><p>Delilah’s stressed tone immediately arrested my attention; she wasn’t often given to dramatics, or hand wringing. My sister needed help; there was one response.</p><p>“Of course!” I agreed immediately. “What can I do?”</p><p>She looked at me, surprised. Then a pleased, shy smile crossed her face, cutting through her fluster. “Um. Don’t you want to ask what I need, first?”</p><p>I giggled. “I suppose so. You could trap me into something truly ghastly. But really, Delilah, whatever your <em>father</em> says, you’re not over-dramatic. And you, asking for help? That’s so unlike you. So. If you need help, you need help. What can I do?”</p><p>“So...um...I wanted to go out to see Albert tonight-”</p><p>“Of course, of course. Your once-sister’s come to visit all the way from Highever for a mere week and naturally your first thought is to ditch her,” I agreed solicitously.</p><p>“Oh, pooh, Elsa, don’t say it like that, it’s your fault you got here so early!”</p><p>“And now you’re off, cavorting with the commoners, oh <em>what </em>will your father think!”</p><p>“Stuff the old man!” she declared openly with a laugh.</p><p>“Just, for the sake of my poor and withered heart, please assure me that my dear sister is being safe. Tell me you have plenty of witherstalk sap,” I teased her. Witherstalk had other uses than preventing pregnancy, of course, but it was an easy target of mockery.</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got that taken care of,” she agreed, and my mouth dropped at the tacit admission of her plans.  “What?”</p><p>“I’m just...so proud of you,” I pressed, wiping an imaginary tear from my eye. “You’ve grown up so fast.”</p><p>“Elsa, please, you bard. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I <em> know </em> you just got here. I swear I’ll spend all day with you tomorrow. I just don’t want to leave him hanging tonight.”</p><p>I laughed openly, then. “Delilah, I’m teasing you, you goose. Alright, then. You want to sneak out and need me to run distraction with your family, I take it?”</p><p>“If you could…is that too much to ask?”</p><p>“You know I’ll take any opportunity to pull one off under your old man’s nose. In fact...hm. By chance, do you happen to still have my old Lion mask hidden somewhere?”</p><p>She laughed. “Oh Maker, really? Whatever you do, you simply must write to Nathaniel, he’ll be tickled pink. He always thought it was hilarious you wanted to be the next Black Fox.”</p><p>“I know,” I groused. “He still calls me Kitten, just to mock me. I swear, you accidentally start a <em>few</em> minor fires and suddenly no one has to take you seriously.”</p><p>“Please, he’s just trying to flirt, you know.”</p><p>Ugh, not this again. She’d never stop teasing me over the fact that I’d once crushed on her brother, long ago. “Pah. Your brother is irrepressible. You should have seen his last letter. Kept going on about the some woman he slept with from the Tourney. An elven archer, apparently.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “That fool man, of course he would.”</p><p>“Anyway. Enough about your flirt of a brother. Let’s talk plans.”</p><p>Her eyes gleamed. “Thank you. I always know I can count on you, Elsa.”</p><hr/><p><em>Present day</em>, 15th of Nubulis, Dragon 32</p><p> </p><p>Well Delilah had a rather worse response than I had hoped. Without conscious choice, my eyes flickered about the surroundings. Nathaniel Howe - surprised, concerned. Delilah reacted to me like I was a threat. Would Nathaniel feel the same, seeing that? Was he a threat, now? If Delilah demanded her brother attack me, would he?</p><p>The boy - he supposed me for Delilah’s friend. Would he hurt me now too?</p><p>Scenarios raced through my head as I deliberately clasped my hands, a gesture of control and calmness. Breathe. In, out. A wide smile. “Hello, Delilah,” I forced out cheerfully, eyes flickering again to our guide. “Bad time to drop in unannounced?”</p><p>Delilah Howe. My once sister. Complicated emotions crossed her face and filled my own heart even as I stared at her, trying to parse who she was now - who <em> we </em> were. Delilah had always been the most sensible and level headed of all of us, practical and uninterested in taking part in the arrogance and pageantry that defined the nobility. Her clothing now eschewed most things that hinted at her status as a formal noble; she was wearing a simple, practical dress, accommodating her very late stage pregnancy. </p><p>In fact, the only hint of her former status as one of the Peerage was <em> that </em>ring on her finger. Of course I recognized it; I’d gifted it to her once, long ago. I was surprised she’d kept that. It was enchanted, I supposed, and therefore fairly practical to keep around, sentiment aside. But given how much my mere presence apparently hurt her, why would she want that reminder? </p><p>I was distracted from the question as her expression painstakingly shifted in reflection to mine; forced cheerfulness and wary eyes.</p><p>Nathaniel shifted again, and my wariness spiked. Could I do anything, if he struck out? Should I? Casually I shifted, ready to shift my bracers, bringing the runic element in contact with my skin. I wouldn't activate them if I didn't have to, but I'd be ready; the threat was too great.</p><p>The tension was so thick even the boy seemed to notice. “M...miss Delilah, are these folks-”</p><p>“They’re absolutely fine, Timmy, trust me,” Delilah said a moment later, smile big and stretched and, at least to me, uncomfortable looking. “They’re old friends, I was just surprised to see them <em> here </em>. I’ll see to them. Please, run along now. Back to Farmer Bronwen’s with you.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Run along, Timmy,” she pressed, more forcefully, eyes not leaving mine. “<em> Please </em>, you two. What a pleasant surprise. I’m so thrilled to see you both. Come in.”  At this, the boy finally relaxed, waving cheerfully and sauntering off.</p><p>“Delilah-” Nathaniel began, eyes darting after the boy. “How much do you trust him?”</p><p>“He’s a good lad, Nathaniel,” Delilah pressed, eyes flickering to her brother, but otherwise steadily staring at me. “He doesn’t mean anyone harm.”</p><p>He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I nearly lashed out, tension arcing through me. But he just leaned to whisper in my ear.  “Promise me that boy’s no threat and I’ll believe you. Or tell me you need me here and I’ll stay. But I’d like to go tail him just to make sure.”</p><p>Oh. Maybe - maybe he didn’t assume the worst of me after all. And his suggestion had merit, though it was a dangerous one. I stiffly nodded. </p><p>“Are you-”</p><p>“Of course, Nate.”</p><p>He hesitated, squeezing my shoulder comfortingly, and the gesture sent a powerful ripple through me. Support and encouragement, from Nathaniel? Why?</p><p>He turned to his sister, offering a short bow. “Delilah, it’s so good to see you healthy. I will be back shortly-”</p><p>“What, to run down an irrelevant <em> kid? </em>” Delilah demanded of her brother archly. “I’ve said he’s no threat. Leave him.”</p><p>“That’s less reassuring than you might suppose. I just want to make sure he isn’t reporting to anyone. Anywhere else our names might be fine, but on Delilah Howe’s doorstep? Word could get out.”</p><p>“I’m not going by <em> Howe </em> out here,” she retorted in a seethe. “Nathaniel don’t-”  she cut herself off, swallowing. “...don’t hurt him.”</p><p>“So long as he’s no threat, he won’t even know I was there.” Carefully he hugged her, even as she grimaced and hugged stiffly back. He whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said, Delilah visibly reacted, guilt writ plain. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, and took off.  </p><p>And for a long moment, we just...stared at each other. Questions, accusations, grievances...everything swirled through my brain in a disorganized cacophony.</p><p>“Please do come in, my...El…” she struggled, not knowing what to call me, and I didn’t know what to stay, still trying to collect my racing thoughts, as if they hadn’t scattered across the ground.</p><p>“Lead the way,” I finally managed. Memories began to flicker through my mind, each leaving an impact, thorns and binds winding their way around my heart.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Aren’t you glad you snuck out with me tonight? Didn’t I tell you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "I don’t care what blood or some stuffy magistrate says! You’re my sister, and I love you, and sometimes you annoy me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Maker, Elsa, come visit more often, you know how I miss you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “...I...of course I want to go to Highever, Elsa. But, but, father wouldn’t like that.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Elsa - I hesitate to write with all that’s going down, and a thousand words need be said. But first I have to ask. What happened to Thomas?</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Lady Elspeth, I write with sad tidings you should know, regarding my mother-</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Lady Elspeth, Heiress-apparent to the throne of Ferelden and the teyrnir of Highever...In my humble duty I offer you sincere congratulations on you ascension. All of Ferelden is blessed by your grace…..I know it is your duty to see about administration of my late father’s province. I have forsworn my claim to the arling, of course. I write to reassure you I have no intention of failing in my obligations to the Crown, and will keep quiet and to myself….I bid you great success in all your future endeavors, and trust the Maker will guide your path, without any Howes darkening it. I remain your humble servant, Delilah Howe</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Delilah set about trying to make some tea, each clank and clatter reverberating through the small house. I shouldn’t let a pregnant woman be taking on such a task, but Delilah seldom liked people protecting her, and it was her house besides. And with her back turned to me, I spent the moment trying to control my emotions. Folding my hands tightly, as if I could likewise clench my heart in place and it would obey.</p><p>Well.</p><p>I’d wanted answers, hadn’t I?</p><p>I shouldn’t’ve expected different, not really. Things had changed, between us, after all that had gone down. Her rare letters after her mother’s passing had always been the height of cordiality. A wall itself, politeness to hold me at arm’s length. I’d wondered if it was teasing, but - she rebuffed my efforts to learn more and eventually I forced it from my mind. Delilah was safe and thriving in her new circumstances, free of the shackles of her father. I thought I could afford to let it be a lesser fire while I helped put out the major ones. She would keep.</p><p><em> My fault. </em> </p><p>It was the right decision, wasn’t it? Ferelden had been on the brink of another civil war, dammit, and the king and queen nearly at the point of openly working against each other. My own needs were <em> nothing </em> compared to the needs of the kingdom.</p><p>
  <em> My fault. </em>
</p><p>This was fine. This was <em> fine. </em> It was good to at least know, for certain, where I stood.</p><p>
  <em> Maker, I hadn’t thought it would be this bad. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> My fault.  </em>
</p><p>A tea cup was set in front of me, forcibly arresting my attention, and she sat across from me, staring at me with obvious fear.</p><p>As if I were a <em> threat</em>.</p><p>Was she even wrong?</p><p>I took a sip of tea, my voice barely but acceptably controlled by the time I’d lowered it. “Albert?”</p><p>“Working.”</p><p>“Baby?”</p><p>“Healthy. Due anytime.”</p><p>“...Helma?”</p><p>She sighed, setting down her teacup, apparently done with the terse questions. “What are you doing here, my lady?” she asked, the privacy of home affording her the relief of polite deference.</p><p>My smile stretched pleasantly, rictus covering the shattered heart. “We were worried about you. Never heard from you, after all that darkspawn ruckus. Thought we’d check on you.”</p><p>“Right. Of course. Just - leave your <em> duties </em>to check in on a small village.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t suppose just saying “I’m fine” would cut it then, would it?”</p><p>“If you like,” I agreed mildly. A tremor went through her, her gaze sharpening on me. “I’ve no need to force myself into your life, Delilah,” I continued quietly. My eyes dropped to my cup of tea. As if by choice, as if it were more interesting than staring at her face, demanding it reveal answers that had plagued me, hiding in the background. </p><p>
  <em> What happened between us? </em>
</p><p>As if that question didn’t have a thousand small and massive answers, all grown into an impossible snarl. Her father. Her brothers. Her mother, however incidentally I was involved in that one. Our separated roles in society. </p><p>The silence and lack of communication.</p><p>“I was worried about you. But if you’re fine, then that’s one worry solved, and I can be on my way.”</p><p>“And Nathaniel?” </p><p>I raised an eyebrow, hackles raising with it. “What, you want to get rid of your brother so quickly, too?”</p><p>“No! No, I meant - I didn’t think he’d leave <em> your </em>- Maker’s breath. I’m not trying to force either of you out. I just - it’s odd you’re here, is all, and it’s such a small village-”</p><p>“Delilah,” I said quietly, meeting her eyes, letting the obvious question linger in the air.</p><p>“...how did you even <em> find </em>Timmy?”</p><p>I took a sip of tea to cover my surprise. Why was he important to her? “Smart looking kid trying to blend in with the shadows, paying attention to people, to movements. You don’t see that every day. Either he was a threat, or a use, and so I approached him to discover which.”</p><p>She nodded slowly, trying to look calm, before a tremble went through her shoulders.</p><p>“He’s a good kid. Don’t hurt him.”</p><p>I stared at her for a long moment, stunned and a little hurt. “Is there a reason I would?”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb, Elsa,” she pleaded. “I’m asking you as a favor, Elsa. Leave the boy alone.”</p><p><em> Never trust easy favors,</em> my mind whispered at me, and I stared at her. “If he’s a threat to you-”</p><p>“Of course you can’t even promise that much,” she hissed bitterly. </p><p>“It’s not <em> simple</em>,” I pressed, a thrum of emotion in my voice, wresting past my control. “I had no intention of hurting him in the first place, but the more you insist I shouldn’t, the more I have to wonder <em> why</em>.”</p><p>“Always with the good excuses.”</p><p>“It’s the <em> truth</em>, Delilah!” I breathed, exasperated, annoyance rising within me. It felt most unfair; honesty was supposed to be believed, wasn’t it? What was even the point of it, otherwise?</p><p>“I’m certain.”</p><p>I set down my teacup, and spent a moment breathing, thinking of calm lakes. Of shoving my emotions underneath it. It was so much harder than I remembered. Curse Nathaniel, this was his fault. Travelling with him meant I’d had less and less cause to hide what I was feeling, finding comfort in the luxury of an openness I rarely allowed myself. </p><p><em> Then it’s not really Nathaniel’s fault, is it? </em> My inner critic whispered.</p><p><em> Hush. Let me offload </em> some <em> blame, he can take it. </em></p><p>I looked up to Delilah again, at her conflicted face. “Delilah. Why are you worried after this boy?”</p><p>“You sent my brother after him! As if he were an attack dog.”</p><p>“I’m not your brother’s keeper, Delilah,” I growled. </p><p>“He’d never deny <em> you </em> anything.”</p><p>“I didn’t even - Delilah, if you think Nathaniel would just gut the lad, then I genuinely have to wonder what he’s done<em> . </em> You <em> know </em> Nathaniel isn’t some mindless assassin, for me or for <em> anyone </em>. So, what, is the kid a spy for Theodore?” </p><p>She scoffed. “Of course not,” she said, angrily. “He hates that old codger more than I do.”</p><p>I believed her, though technically that didn’t rule out blackmail. I opened my mouth, and Delilah’s annoyed expression grew, immediately seeing my objection. “He’s <em> not </em> working for Theodore, or helping him in any way, Elsa, just - just trust me, please.”</p><p>My mouth shut, and I nodded. “Alright. I believe you.”</p><p>“Oh, just like that?” she demanded sardonically.</p><p>I sighed, drumming fingernails on my teacup. Finally, I took a risk. “On your word alone? No. But. He’s Pack, Delilah,” I murmured, and she stiffened, eyes widening with more fear. Well, that had backfired, but too late now. “It’s rare indeed that those associated with the Dark Wolf work for abusive nobles, so I didn’t need much convincing on that one.”</p><p>“So you <em> do </em> know,” she murmured, shoulders sagging with defeat. “I suppose this is where you bring the lad to the crown’s justice?”</p><p>“I hardly care what thieves are up to in some small provincial town, Delilah,” I growled, beginning to get genuinely offended. “If he’s such a problem, speak to your mayor and solve it yourself.”</p><p>“...oh?”</p><p>“...Is that really it? You were worried because I knew he was a <em> thief? </em>” I demanded, shocked at her sudden deflation.</p><p>She reared back, before defensively squaring her shoulders. “He’s not just a thief, he’s part of a ring of thieves! Working for the <em> Dark Wolf! </em> You’re the Law, isn’t following up your <em> duty </em>now?”</p><p>I grimaced. What a complicated question. Three years ago we would have eagerly been pouring over the latest exploits of such a figure as the Dark Wolf and comparing the news to our favorite dashing hero from the history books, Remi the Black Fox, infamous Orlesian rogue. We’d always devoured his stories in our youth, loving the idea of a noble thief, striking back at his own class and cleverly humbling the abusive assholes of society. The Dark Wolf was so obviously a deliberate spiritual successor to him. </p><p>So how could she think I’d care so much about a <em> thief? </em> I stared at her through narrowed eyes, and she met my gaze defiantly.</p><p>“Don’t give me that look, Elsa. I know how much <em> duty </em> binds you.”</p><p>Suspicions quieted, wounds taking their place. “Well, you’re not wrong,” I conceded quietly. I stared into my tea, watching the steam rise off it and inhaling its aroma for the hope of some normalcy. An awkward, stretched moment of quiet.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said softly.</p><p>I scoffed bitterly, then tried to modulate my tone. If she was reaching out her hand like this, I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t going to desperately latch onto it. “Oh? What for?”</p><p>“I’m...sure it’s not as good as the fancy teas you’re used to.”</p><p>I groaned, then. “I swear to the Maker, Delilah, if all this is about you being <em> jealous </em> of my position-”</p><p>“Absolutely fucking not,” Delilah snapped. “You wouldn’t catch me dead in that role.”</p><p>Anger burned within me, at the <em> judgment </em> I heard in her tone. I took another calm sip of tea. “No, I suppose not. Why get involved? You much prefer to just avoid distasteful things, all while the world burns around you.”</p><p>She reared back, white faced and shocked, setting her tea down. I’d struck deeply, I knew. I’d meant to hurt her. I shouldn’t regret it, she’d been wicked so far, and yet seeing the tears in her eyes, guilt coiled in me, eating me from the inside out. I forcibly remembered I was dealing with a very pregnant woman, dealing with emotions a little harder to control. And then, a controversial figure from her past just dropped on her doorstep without warning.</p><p>The woman who orchestrated the downfall of her father. Who’d murdered her brother. And as a result, however indirectly, had untethered the last moorings on her mother. I couldn’t be an easy face for her to see.</p><p>Maybe I shouldn’t be poking at the wounds between us quite so viciously.</p><p>I breathed, unable to meet her eyes, guilt heavy on my heart. “Sorry. That was wrong of me, you didn’t deserve it.”</p><p>“I did, though,” she whispered, throat clogged with emotions. Tears filled her eyes, and soon they spilled down her cheeks, and I had no idea where to look anymore. Pretend she wasn’t having emotions? </p><p><em> She’s still your sister, whatever she feels, </em> I told myself. <em> Read her. Find what’s wrong. Give her comfort. </em></p><p>Grief and guilt and fear all mixed in her expression, a complicated knot I couldn’t begin to untangle. I went for the obvious mark, voice gentle. “You couldn’t have stopped them, you know. Your father. Or Thomas.”</p><p>Her grip tightened on her cup. “Always with the pleasant lies,” she retorted, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Am I just another piece on your board, then, to pacify and shove in the direction of your choosing?”</p><p>Breathe. In. Out.</p><p>“I - I don’t want to use you. I just...want to <em> help </em>, Delilah.”</p><p>“<em>Don’t. </em>”</p><p>I swallowed, and finally the dam broke, tears spilling out of my eyes too. “As you wish,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Angrily she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, Maker, Elsa, what are <em> you </em> sorry for?”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have avoided dealing with this.”</p><p>She scoffed, a sob tearing from her throat in a hiccup. “You? You didn’t. I’m the one who avoided you.”</p><p>“I...I could have pressed harder, tried...I don’t know,” I admitted, voice quavering. I quickly dabbed the tears in my eye, trying not to appear so obviously ruined. “I just miss you, is all.”</p><p>“...Elsa, I…” she trailed off, swallowing words before they could burst out. “Never mind.” </p><p>We lapsed into awkward silence, contemplating. I saw what she wanted to say on her face. It was plain, despite how nonsensical it was. <em> I miss you too. </em></p><p>I didn’t know why she wouldn’t just say it, if that were true. But did it matter? Either I was reading her wrong or she was making a specific choice not to reconcile. At the end of the day, I only had her actions. </p><p>She didn’t want me in her life.</p><p>I had to respect her enough to allow that. Best to settle what I could, then. There was nothing more for me here. “Nathaniel can decide what he wants to do when he returns,” I finally offered. “But as for me, I’ll move on in the morning. Might you direct me to an inn?”</p><p>“We don’t have one. Just farmers with extra room, most of which have been damaged by the recent storm.” She took a breath. “You’re welcome to the hospitality of my home,” she continued woodenly.</p><p>I tilted my head, a humorless and joyless smile tugging at my lips. “<em>Welcome?</em> Now who’s wielding those pleasant lies?”</p><p>She sucked in a breath. “I’ll not kick the heiress to the throne out on the street. That’s dangerous for both of us.”</p><p>Well, that was one way to tie my hands. Why, though? Didn’t she not want to see my face?  “I...thank you for your offer,” I demurred awkwardly, uncertain that I wouldn’t just rather camp under the stars than this roof. “But. Before I forget.” I turned to my pack.  I carefully pulled out the book I’d meant to give her, Crown of Hearts, and set it on the table. She stared at it with shocked eyes, and finally met my gaze again. </p><p>Her shoulders shook with sudden tension, then sagged. More tears began to stream from her cheeks and once again, she tried to brush them away, stemming the tide. “Maker’s breath. You’re impossible, you know that?”</p><p>I wasn’t sure how to take that. “I’ve...been told.”</p><p>“Elsa, I - It’s just - you, of all people, right <em> now?</em>” she breathed out through clenched teeth. </p><p>“I understand,” I lied.</p><p>The book sat on the table between us. She made no move to take it. And with that, we ran out of things to say, lapsing into awkward, painful silence. The sounds of Nathaniel returning shook us both from our temporary reverie. We shot each other looks, and each quickly tried to eliminate the evidence of our tears. But when he came in he hesitated, taking stock of us both, seeming to read a great deal just from the leftover evidence.</p><p>“Elsa…” he murmured with concern.</p><p>“Did you kill the kid?” I asked, wanting the distraction of dark humor alongside a chance to reassure Delilah, if she was truly so worried. </p><p>He paused. A slightly lifted eyebrow was as much reaction as he betrayed. “No. He seemed shifty, but harmless. Should I have?”</p><p>Delilah and I both barked bitter laughs.</p><p>“I’ve...missed a joke?”</p><p>“Several,” I admitted. “She thinks you’d kill on my orders-”</p><p>“You know <em> Elsa </em> would never order that,” Nathaniel objected immediately. “Believe me, I’ve <em> tried </em> to convince her that leaving angry and bloodthirsty <em> murderers </em> behind us is wrong to all their future victims.”</p><p>I wasn’t taking that bait - again, anyway, not right now. “And his tag - his <em> thief </em>alias - is Shifty.”</p><p>“He <em> told </em>you that?” Delilah demanded, seeming impressed, or perturbed. I gave a nonchalant shrug, taking a sip of my tea. </p><p>Why was she reaching out, now? Was she just trying to put on a show of things being copacetic for her brother? Or was this just the usual noble pretense, pretending things weren’t as bad as they felt? Delilah wasn’t completely beyond the influence of her father, after all. I knew I certainly wasn’t.</p><p>“So...how are...things?” Nathaniel tried, clearly uncomfortable. </p><p>“Well, she thinks I want to kill all thieves because I’m a bloodthirsty tyrant with a thirst to noose the Dark Wolf, but other than that-”</p><p>“I didn’t say that-” Delilah protested hotly. </p><p>“Delilah, that’s beyond foolish, even for you. You truly don’t know, or even <em> suspect? </em>” </p><p>Nathaniel’s voice cut through my retort as it formed. I wasn’t foolish enough to blank my face of expression, defaulting instead to a look of confusion. Inwardly, however, tension raced through me, fears gripping my heart. A frozen moment, where we very carefully didn’t look at each other. Nathaniel glanced back and forth between us.</p><p>And then, that <em> ass </em> had the gall to let a smirk twitch to his lips. It felt very incongruous to the mood of the moment. </p><p>“What are you referring to, Nathaniel?” I finally risked.</p><p>“Delilah, really. This is straightforward to figure out,” he pressed, face kind, but with shades of smug older brother through and through. <em> Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- </em></p><p>“What are you-”</p><p>“Elsa,” he said, staring me down. “I’m not going to force it out of you. It’s your decision.” Grey eyes burrowing into me, weighing me down. Judging me.</p><p>He knew. He <em> knew. </em></p><p>
  <em> FUCK. </em>
</p><p>Delilah stared, gaze darting between her brother and myself and looking increasingly perturbed. I wore my best expression of confusion and amusement. Staring down Nathaniel and willing him to <em> shut his damn mouth. </em> “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Nate.”</p><p>“Elsa. I’m hurt by your rudeness.”</p><p>Blatant lies indeed. “Andraste’s tits. How long have you known?” I diverted, voice not petulant. </p><p>“Known <em> what?! </em>”</p><p>“Not immediately, but I figured it out as we traveled together, and the gaps your stories had.” I glared daggers at him. His smile became a faint smirk, and he had the gall to shrug nonchalantly. “You can’t have expected to keep that from me for long.”</p><p>“I had expected <em> some </em> privacy of my personal affairs,” I tried valiantly, while Delilah tapped increasingly annoyed fingers on the table. </p><p>“That’s a very good joke, Elsa,” he agreed solemnly. But he came to sit next to me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. </p><p>It was a show of support I didn’t understand. I wanted to shake him and force words past that stoic façade. Why couldn’t I consistently read him?</p><p>What did this <em> mean </em>? How long had he known?</p><p>He leaned in to whisper in my ear, breath hot and tickling me, sending inappropriate shivers down my spine that I could only hope he didn’t notice. “Tell her. She <em> should </em> have figured it out by now too, so you might as well control the reveal. And no, of course the Wardens won’t learn from me, Elsa. But considering her <em> friends </em> these days, it will likely prove helpful.”</p><p>I sighed, deflating. He was not without point.</p><p>That damned man usually wasn’t.</p><p>Besides. If Nathaniel knew, then it hardly mattered what I said to Delilah, not anymore. He was far more capable of ruining me with the right words; and if I had any hope of restoring my friendship with Delilah, then it had to be worth the risk.</p><p>“I will poison you both with the runs if you don’t stop being all cryptic and in your own world together,” Delilah said idly. “It was cute when we were children. Less cute now.”</p><p>Nathaniel quickly pulled back and I flushed faintly, not wanting her pulling at <em> that </em> thread. “Delilah, I’m...hm. This is monumentally foolish of me, but. Can I please tell you something and ask you to keep it a secret?”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow at me. “...I’m not sure who you think I could tell, but fine.”</p><p>“I knew about Shifty and I’m <em> not </em> hunting the Pack, because...well.” I took a breath. No going back. “<em>I’m </em> the Dark Wolf.”</p><p>She stared at me. “That’s a very <em> poor </em> joke, Elsa. And a foolish one. You know I’ve met the Dark Wolf, right? He’s-” <em> a friend,</em> she almost revealed, though I already knew. “He works in Amaranthine<em>. </em> And is a <em>man.</em>” </p><p>“I admit that one stumped me for a bit too,” Nathaniel agreed, smiling faintly. “But consider how different that Wolf is to the tales from Denerim. Your Amaranthine friend is an information broker. But the one in Denerim? Much more than that. Far more skilled. Far more <em> diverse. </em> Information, yes. But also skulker, pickpocket, dashing thief - always pleased to humble the nobles, and particularly those in support of our father’s regime? Bold as you please and cleverly ironic? That always had Elsa written all over it. There are at least two Wolves, Delilah. Possibly more.”</p><p>“Elsa…?” Delilah asked, turning a stunned gaze onto me. “Maker. You’re not serious. <em> You? </em>"</p><p>“Me,” I confirmed quietly.</p><p>“How…when...” She rubbed her eyebrows. “That...can’t be true. You’re an advisor to the Crown. You can’t - you can’t work for the Crown <em> and </em>be an infamous thief.”</p><p>“Well, there’s a reason you haven’t heard of any truly big heists in Denerim in awhile. The Wolf in Amaranthine rose with my blessing; I needed someone to take on the mantle anyway, to keep the nobles on their toes. And with what the Pack has grown into  - better it not be led by a noble. Even so, it’s not a role I’ve truly retired from.”</p><p>Nathaniel made a noise of satisfaction, the last piece clicking in place for him. I cast him a sidelong look, and he met my eyes with a faint smile. The warmth in his gaze had me shaking my head, anxieties slowly lessening. Why was it so easy for me to believe he’d hate me so frivolously?</p><p>
  <em> Because losing him scares me, and I’m steeling myself against the worst. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Though, in my defense, if his sister thought I was a threat-  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -But Nathaniel would never believe I was, would he? </em>
</p><p>“I’d been certain it was going to be you when we arranged to meet him in Amaranthine, you know,” he teased me, and the gentle ribbing gave me something to cling to. A sense of normalcy in an otherwise fraught conversation. The weight on my shoulders - the darkness, the pain - everything seemed so much lighter, now.  Maker, how did he have this much of an effect on me? </p><p>The world - it felt so chaotic, sometimes, and while I loved that, enjoyed the chaos, the surprise and passion of people - sometimes, it was nice to have those fixed points, like Nathaniel. If I was a storm of chaos and contradictions, he was like an anchor to me. </p><p>He was dangerously good at comforting me without even trying.</p><p>“We’re not done talking about this,” I murmured in an undertone. </p><p>“I wouldn’t have it any other way, <em> my lady, </em>” he retorted teasingly. </p><p>“...No. This can’t…”  Delilah rubbed her temples. “Please help me make sense of this. When did this start? And <em> why? </em>”</p><p>“I was hiding in the alienage for half a year, Delilah. I met...passionate folks, there.” <em> Slim Couldry. </em> Elf-blooded thief, alienage raised, and information broker of no small talent himself. “They were always angry at the nobility, right when I was likewise raw and burning. Seeing what a raw deal those without privilege get...well. You may have started that journey for me, opening my eyes to the plight of the commoners…”</p><p>She broke her gaze from mine, embarrassed at the praise, but it was the truth. </p><p>I shrugged. “The alienage, though, and those angry friends were what truly radicalized me. They had the information. They could tell me of marks. Places to hit, to feel less powerless. With my skills, there were a few other ways I could strike back safely.” </p><p>Nathaniel was too gracious to look openly smug at his sister’s dawning awareness, but I could see it dancing behind his eyes all the same. </p><p>I laughed faintly, looking up at the ceiling for respite. “So yes. I was - and in some ways still am - the Dark Wolf. I was the first one, behind the infamous spree in Denerim during the Blight. I would never hurt the Pack. Shifty thieves to the last one, but so long as they focus on taking from nobles and occasionally helping the poor, they operate freely and with my blessing.” I smirked, though the expression quickly died, feeling inappropriate. “Not that they know who I am, of course. Fear of Elspeth Cousland, notorious rogue and spymaster, is healthy for a thief.”</p><p>“This whole time…” Delilah murmured. She tapped her fingers against the wood of the table, a particular energy taking her. I watched her expression carefully. She clearly felt that as her face was steadily becoming more self controlled, though it still twitched with storming emotions not revealed. “...Why a <em> wolf </em>?”</p><p>A faint flicker of a smile made its way to my face. “I needed to disguise my identity. Rendon was still hunting for any potential Couslands. So I asked for a fox mask.”</p><p>The light of realization entered her eyes. “Like the Black Fox,” Delilah murmured, damming connection finally clicking for her. She sighed, pressing her face into her palms a moment. “Honestly, I’d thought it was you before I first met him because of <em> that </em>. Shoved it out of my mind when we were introduced. You were such a ridiculous fan of his. Didn’t you once cavort about in that silly Lion mask?”</p><p>I flushed, faintly. “I can’t recall-”</p><p>“You did,” Nathaniel agreed, because of course <em> both </em> of them would remember that catastrophe.</p><p>“Yes, of course! That’s when you started calling her Kitten!”</p><p>It was Nathaniel’s turn to look perturbed, cheeks heating. “That’s hardly the point, is it?”</p><p>For a moment, Delilah’s eyes and mine met. There was a flash of something. Mischief, perhaps. An old connection. The two of us, united in teasing Nathaniel.</p><p>But as rapidly as it appeared, it was gone. Her eyes quickly shifted away from me, as if ashamed she’d reached out in the first place. I tried not to sigh.</p><p>“<em> Regardless. </em> I tried to get a fox mask. But because I was in the alienage, what I got instead was a wolf mask. One of the Dalish creator gods, or maybe demons. A trickster. Fen’harel, if I recall correctly. So I started pulling those jobs in that mask, keen to keep my identity hidden. Dark clothes. Lupine mask. Though no one truly caught me, incidental fleeting glances were enough, and a rather obvious name began to stick. And so the Dark Wolf was born. A legend stoked by my new friends. A bogeyman to scare the nobles.”</p><p>“...I...I just can’t even begin to process the game you’re playing,” Delilah breathed. </p><p>“It’s not a game, it’s…complicated,” I demurred, folding my hands in my lap. “But what I started, I didn’t want to stop. And frankly, if I didn’t have some outlet for my more rebellious tendencies, I think I might have exploded.”</p><p>Delilah barked a laugh, at that, and anxieties uncoiled in my heart. It wasn’t much - her face was still tense, and shoulders bowed with worry. But it was something. “I can’t even begin to understand this. But.” She took a breath, clearly calming herself. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I suppose you’ve no reason to hurt Timmy after all.”</p><p>“I didn’t even know I’d find <em> anyone </em>from the Pack out here until I met him. I don’t - I don’t keep track of the Pack’s movements, as a general rule, they don’t really report to me like my agents do. But as long as he’s not a threat to good people, he can act as he sees fit.”</p><p>She nodded, accepting that. “He cocked up a big job in Amaranthine and wanted a place to lay low for a while, so I offered to let him travel with us. When you showed up at my doorstep with him - I just assumed I’d drawn him in harm’s way. I couldn’t abide that.”</p><p>“Delilah…” I began faintly, and lost my nerve. Was that really it? Clearly it wasn’t, because her eyes dropped from mine again, unwilling to reach out. The book still on the table, untouched. </p><p>Much more still lay between us. And despite the reveal - despite her pretense - fear was still in her eyes. </p><p>But <em> why? </em></p><p>Nathaniel reached under the table, covering my hand with his. Another show of support I didn’t understand, or deserve. I grasped his hand tightly, practically crushing his fingers. His worn gold ring - a gift from Delilah - bit against my hand. </p><p>Huh.</p><p>I looked again at Delilah’s hand, and saw my own gift to her nestled there, wondering.</p><p>Clarity finally descended on me. </p><p>“Oh. <em> Oh, </em> I am a <em> fool</em>. You act as though I’m a threat - you strike at wounds as only a sister could,” I murmured, tension growing. “But it’s not as though I haven’t taken on that role myself in service of a plan - just recently with Nathaniel, in fact, when he <em> shot </em> me.”</p><p>“Oh?” Nathaniel demanded, raising an eyebrow, but I ignored him for the moment.</p><p>“Elsa-” A flash of fear in her eyes again.</p><p>“It is remarkably tempting to lick my wounds, to retreat in pain. To tell myself it’s respecting your wishes. But for my many flaws, I like to think I learn from my mistakes. And I can’t - I <em> can’t </em> repeat my first mistake with Nathaniel, assuming the worst and avoiding the pain rather than reaching out.”</p><p>Nervously, her eyes flickered between the two of us, while I felt Nathaniel’s own gaze fall on me. Steady. Reassuring. Uncertain, but trusting.</p><p>I breathed, tense laughter in my voice. “It’s too easy for me to believe you would hate me. It’s not as though you don’t have ample excuse. But it’s not so simple, is it?”</p><p>“Hate you?” Nathaniel repeated in surprise, flashing a glance to his sister, who wilted further. “Delilah, I know that’s not true, you spoke-”</p><p>“Nathaniel,” she said sharply, cutting him off. “Leave it. You can’t fix what’s between us, brother. Elsa, please-”</p><p>I met her eyes, implacable, tapping in my teacup. “You’re not wrong. Things are complicated, and don’t have easy solutions. But that’s not what this is about.  You - you know me. And how easy it is, how <em> weak </em> I am to my own guilt. You’re hiding something. And you’re terrified I’m going to find out what. So you attacked me, to get me focusing inwards, and to drive me away.”</p><p>Delilah sucked in a breath, struck, and I knew I was <em> right. </em> Nathaniel’s own eyes narrowed. My mind whirled with possibilities, but it was Nathaniel who saw the specifics first. “You’re in danger. And you’re afraid of her - of <em> us </em> getting involved.”</p><p>She flinched hard. “Fucking rogues,” she muttered admission, and I was struck strongly by the resonance between us once more.</p><p>Well. That rather changed things entirely.</p><p>My eyes hardened, and I felt the webs spin out, dangerous ties that served to connect and bind. “Coming out to a small village, so near Theodore - what does he have on you, Delilah?”</p><p>“He <em> wants </em> you involved, my lady, I’m sure of it,” she growled, pretense gone. “And I can handle this myself.”</p><p>I traded glances with Nathaniel, wordlessly communicating. He signaled support and agreement, and as one we turned to his sister, to <em> our </em> sister, shoulder to shoulder. “Tell us, Delilah. Because we <em> will </em> get involved now. And your only hope of stopping us is genuinely convincing us you don’t need us.”</p><p>“And good luck with that, considering the skills we bring to the table,” Nathaniel added with a chuckle. “I know you don’t like protection, Delilah - but can you really conceive having the Dark Wolf on your side wouldn’t be an asset?”</p><p>“Not to mention, a Hero of Amaranthine.”</p><p>“The heiress to the throne.”</p><p>“Peerless rogue and dangerous archer.” </p><p>“Oh, are you puffing up yourself now?”</p><p>“Don’t give me that, Nate, you-”</p><p>“Oh, Maker help me, either get a room or <em> shut up, </em>” Delilah demanded, and my lips snapped shut. I didn’t look at Nathaniel, scoffing dismissively instead. </p><p>“Delilah,” Nathaniel cut in, his voice gruff. “You can’t pretend you’re not dear to us both. We’re going to worry about you, now. I know you don’t like protection, but - don’t cut us out. Let us help. <em> Please. </em>”</p><p>And she groaned, and quibbled, and resisted. But we had her cornered, now. </p><p>There was no path left for her but to give in.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Some of the reveals in this chapter just work better if you’ve played DAO, since I haven’t done more than obliquely hint at them here (Elsa prodding Nathaniel about what he knew of the Dark Wolf, for example). I relied on the readers being aware of the game events and sidequests.<br/>I probably should have done a better job hinting at this in story, but this had been planned since the very beginning as a minor reveal. I may go back and add a few more hints for the sake of the narrative, though.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for reading!  And though I'm not sure of proper fanfiction etiquette yet, a few things have occurred to me that I should add.</p><p>Special thanks to my beta reader, Charles Densem, a saint of patience for sticking through with me this far, and my fic discussion club for helpful early insights.</p><p>Major inspirations (aka my favorite web-serials that I'm fairly sure include elements that have slipped in here by now) include The Gods are Bastards (found here: https://tiraas.net/) and Practical Guide to Evil (found here: https://practicalguidetoevil.wordpress.com/), both are original works and quite delightful reads.  I recommend them highly!<br/>Next, Bracketyjack's "Lady Knight Volant" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/511762/chapters/902085) , a fanfiction based on Tamora Pierce's Protector of the Small.  The series has influenced me a lot in terms of how I write about this medieval-like period.</p><p>There's probably others, but I'm not conscious of them yet, so when I realize it, I'll append them.  Not that it matters, I'm a tiny fic in the sea. :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>